THE  WILDCAT 
HUGH  WILEY 


THE 
WI  L  D  C  AT 

BY 

HUGH    WILEY 


NEW  XSr  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1920, 
BY  GEORGE    H.  DORAN    COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,   1919,  BY   THE    CURTIS    PUBLISHING    COMPANv 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED   STATES    OF   AMERICA 


TO 
CHARLES   ARTHUR    PAUSON 

"Boy,  how4  come?" 
"You  knows  how  come." 


THE  WILDCAT 


THE  WILDCAT 


CHAPTER  I 


"I  don't  bother  work,  work  don't  bother  me, 

Fse  fo'  times  as  happy  as  a  buh-humble  beee-e. 

I  eats  when  I  kin  git  it,  sleeps  mos'  all  de  time 

I  don't  give  a  doggone  if  de  sun  don't  neveh  shine " 

Vitus  Marsden  proclaimed  to  the  world  the 
content  that  filled  his  heart.  Work  was  good 
enough  for  field  hands  and  river  niggers. 
Cutting  the  lawns  that  fronted  white  folks' 
residences  on  Legal  Hill  or  taking  an  oc 
casional  r'ar  at  the  gallopin'  dominoes  when 
the  sevens  and  Sevens  were  feelin'  anxious  to 
oblige  a  boy  were  the  sources  of  an  income 
sufficient  for  the  day.  And  no  man  has  seen 
to-morrow. 

Vitus  walked  along  a  shaded  back  street. 
The  sidewalk  was  made  of  soft  red  brick  that 
wore  down  unevenly  so  that  ^oung  grass-cut- 

[93 


THE  WILDCAT 


ters  would  flap  along  and  flap  along  until  an 
old  brick  would  try  to  bump  hisself  in  an'  live 
with  a  boy's  toes. 

In  the  left  pocket  of  his  adhesive  shirt  three 
silver  dollars  lay  heavy  as  a  crocodile's  con 
science.  "Black  shoes  is  three  dollars,  yaller 
shoes  is  three-fifty,"  thought  Vitus.  "Ketch 
me  one  mo'  lawn  then  watch  out  yaller  shoes. 
Fse  a  wile-cat  f 'r  yaller  an'  I'se  on  my  prowl." 

The  Wildcat  was  captured  at  the  corner  of 
Fourth  and  Elm  by  Mis'  Minnie  Morrison. 
"Name's  Mis'  Minny  but  folks  minds  like  she 
was  a  ol'  whale  an'  them  Jonah." 

"Vitus,  come  here." 

The  Wildcat  responded  with  the  muscular 
activity  of  his  namesake.  "Mis'  Minny,  here 
I  is."  ' 

"This  lawn  needs  trimming.  It  must  be 
trimmed  evenly  and  with  precision, — eliminat 
ing  as  far  as  your  inferior  technique  will  per 
mit,  the  incongruous  undulations  consequent  to 
a  preponderance  of  clover." 

"_Yas'm!  Is  you  got  a  whet-stone?"  The 
Wildcat's  intellect  sagged  for  an  instant  with 
the  effort  of  remembering  some  of  the  heavy- 
[10] 


THE  WILDCAT 


set  words  for  future  use  at  the  Argumentative 
Pleasure  Club. 

Ordinarily  the  business  of  trimming  a  lawn 
meant  no  more  to  the  Wildcat  than  shuffling 
half  a  mile  through  a  grass-strewn  bit  of  life 
but  Mis'  Minnie's  specifications  had  made  this 
a  different  proposition.  Her  vocabulary  had 
made  work  out  of  a  little  old  job  of  cutting 
grass.  "I  don't  bother  work,  work  don't  con- 
flooperate  no  bumble  beee-e, — I'll  lend  me  a 
lawn-mowin'  machine  f 'r  this  here  ol'  elephant 
of  a  lawn." 

For  half  an  hour  after  the  lawn  mower  had 
been  borrowed  on  the  strength  of  a  promise  to 
sharpen  it  up  free  "to  show  how  good  kin  I 
make  ol'  grass-eater  cut"  the  Wildcat  marched 
with  his  feet  flopping  into  a  cascade  of  blue- 
grass  and  clover  which  gushed  from  the  whirl 
ing  knives.  He  roughed  down  the  incongruous 
undulations  and  trimmed  the  edges  as  best  he 
could  with  the  lawn  mower  and  was  so  relieved 
at  the  improvement  he  had  wrought  that  he 
resolved  to  sacrifice  the  edge  of  his  shavin' 
razor  in  an  attack  on  the  floppity  bunches  of 
grass  along  the  margin  of  the  lawn.  He  pro 
duced  the  razor  with  a  movement  similar  to 


THE  WILDCAT 


that  which  a  fat  man  employs  in  scratching 
his  back  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  margin  of 
the  lawn  was  enjoying  the  bristly  status  of  its 
interior.  The  Wildcat  raked  up  the  results  of 
the  grass-eater's  activity  and  returned  the  ma 
chine  to  its  owner  with  a  request  that  he  try 
it  and  see  how  good  kin  she  cut  now.  He  sat 
down  to  rest  himself  until  Mis'  Minnie  might 
bestow  the  fifty  cents. 

"Black  shoes,  three  dollars.  Yaller  shoes, 
three-fifty.  Fifty  cents  where  at  is  you?"  He 
regarded  the  flappy  sole  of  his  left  shoe  and 
discovered  that  the  contents  of  the  shoe  con 
sisted  of  about  equal  parts  of  foot  and  clover. 
He  removed  the  shoe  and  shook  the  grass  out 
of  it. 

Mis'  Minnie  appeared  with  the  fifty  cents. 

"From  a  casual  inspection  it  would  appear 
that  your  reputation  has  been  substantiated  in 
this  instance  by  equivalent  performance." 

The  Wildcat  batted  his  eyes.  "Yas'm,  Mis' 
Minny.  Thank  you!" 

The  fifty-cent  piece  clinked  to  its  place  in 
the  pocket  of  the  adhesive  shirt  beside  the  three 
silver  dollars.  Mis'  Minnie  walked  into  the 
house  and  Vitus  sat  down  to  put  on  his  left 


i 


THE  WILDCAT 


shoe  from  which  the  clover  had  been  emptied. 
"Yaller  shoes,  three-fifty."  The  three-fifty 
clinked  nobly  as  he  bent  over  to  put  on  his 
shoe. 

Pressed  against  the  sole  inside  of  the  Wild 
cat's  left  shoe,  outlining  in  placid  green  the  per 
fection  of  its  promise,  lay  a  four-leaved  clover. 
"Cloveh!    Li'l  cloveh,  us  needs  action !" 
The  three-fifty  clinked  in  cadence  with  the 
Wildcat's  gallop  toward  a  place  where  the 
sevens  and  'levens  were   feeling  anxious  to 
oblige. 

ii 

In  the  back  room  of  Willie  Webster's  barber 
shop  the  Wildcat  knelt  in  a  circle  of  his  kind, 
getting  action  on  the  three-fifty.  A  pair  of 
mercury  dice  introduced  by  a  lodge  brother, 
failed  to  respond.  The  Wildcat  shot  a  dollar 
and  let  it  lay  for  three  passes.  He  picked  up 
the  accumulated  wealth  and  warmed  the  dice 
with  the  breath  of  victory. 

"I'se  a  fo'  leaf  wile-cat  an'  I'Se  on  my  prowl! 
Shoots  five  dollahs !" 

The  lodge  brother  recalled  the  words  of  the 

[13] 


THE  WILDCAT 


guarantee  which  accompanied  the  mercury 
dice.  "Boy,"  he  said,  "roll 'em!" 

The  Wildcat  rolled  'em  and  his  proprietary 
interest  in  the  five  dollars  died  a  natural  death. 
The  lodge  brother  galloped  the  dominoes  for 
two  passes  and  whittled  the  Wildcat  down  to 
the  measly  fifty-cent  piece  which  Mis'  Minnie 
had  given  him  for  manicuring  the  ol'  elephant. 

The  Wildcat  massaged  the  dice  between  his 
magenta  palms.  "Little  gallopers,  speak  to  me ! 
Shoots  fifty  cents!" 

The  little  gallopers  spoke  to  him.  Their 
speech  was  not  that  which  charms  the  ears  of 
fortune's  paramour.  It  sounded  like  the  lan 
guage  of  a  steamboat  man  or  a  deppity  sheriff. 
The  lodge  brother  grunted:  "Wildcat,  you  is 
had  your  prowl." 

The  Wildcat  retreated  from,  the  circle  and 
made  his  way  to  the  front  room  of  the  barber 
shop.  "Willie,  how's  chances  for  gettin'  me 
a  hair-cut  on  credit  till  I  cuts  me  another 
lawn?" 

,The  proprietor,  wise  to  the  financial  condi 
tion  of  the  victims  who  emerged  from  the  back 
room  of  the  shop,  lost  no  time  in  stating  his 
terms.  "I  sells  haircuts  f'r  cash, — wartimes 


THE  WILDCAT 


an'  folks  movin'  away  has  me  about  bust  now. 
They  ain't  no  more  credit  'til  after  the  war 
is  over." 

The  Wildcat  shuffled  out  of  the  shop  and 
prowled  homeward.  He  paused  in  front  of  a 
grocery  store  long  enough  to  figger  he  might 
eat  a  can  of  sardine  fishes.  He  discovered 
what  "Cash  Grocery"  meant  and  he  resumed 
his  course. 

in 

At  the  boarding-house  a  white  man  waited 
for  the  Wildcat.  The  man  carried  a  sheaf  of 
folded  up  papers  in  his  left  hand.  The  Wild 
cat  recalled  the  fact  that  white  men  with  folded 
up  paper  never  meant  any  luck  for  a  boy. 
"Ain't  no  'stallment  man — I  finished  up  that 
'stallment  banjo  an'  that  ol'  'stallment  gol' 
watch, — how  come  dis  white  man  heah?" 

The  white  man  challenged:  "Boy,  your 
name  Vitus  Marsden?" 

The  Wildcat  saw  no  avenue  of  escape. 
"Yessuh." 

The  white  man  pointed  the  folded  up  papers 
at  him.  "You  are  drafted  for  the  First  Service 
Battalion.  Report  to  the  provost  marshal  in 


THE  WILDCAT 


Memphis  by  to-morrow  noon.  You're  Nine 
Hundred  and  Fifty-three  Thousand,  Four 
Hundred  and  Ninety-Seven." 

"I  sho  is  considerable — whut's  dis  heah  Fust 
Service  Battalion?"  The  Wildcat  mentally 
recorded  his  number. 

"Service  Battalions  are  front  line  construc 
tion  troops.  Your  uniform  and  equipment  will 
be  issued  as  soon  as  you  pass  the  medical  ex 
amination." 

"Front  line — 'quipment — 'zamination."  The 
Wildcat  took  hold  of  his  Adam's  apple,  fig- 
germ'  it  might  keep  jumpin'  round  until  it  got 
lost.  "You  mean  Ah's  a  wah  soldier  f  r  work- 
in'  in  dis  yere  wah  ?" 

"Wouldn't  say  you'll  be  in  the  war,  boy," — 
the  white  man  had  his  joy  in  his  work, — "you'll 
be  sort  of  on  the  edge  of  it, — the  front  edge, 
buildin'  railroads  f'r  haulin'  dead  Germans 
away  from  in  front  of  our  cannons." 

The  Wildcat  lost  his  health  and  strength  dur 
ing  the  next  three  seconds.  "Misteh,  mah  bone 
misery  done  got  me  bad  agin' " 

"Before  noon  to-morrow  at  Memphis, — the 
Provost  Marshal's  office.  And  if  you  ain't 
there  you  get  a  military  burial  to-morrow  at 
[16] 


THE  WILDCAT 


sundown/'  The  white  man  offered  this  casual 
interruption  to  the  Wildcat's  complaint  and  de 
parted  in  search  of  the  next  winner  in  the 
lottery. 

The  military  Wildcat  curled  up  on  his  bed 
and  removed  his  shoes  so  as  to  be  foot-loose  in 
his  misery.  Inside  the  left  shoe,  distinct 
against  the  dark  leather  background  of  the  sole, 
lay  the  four-leaved  clover. 

"Cloveh,  you  fo'-leaf  liah,  wuz  you  a  hawg 
I'd  barbecue  you  wid  a  rock."  The  Wildcat 
scraped  the  four-leaved  clover  from  the  inside 
of  his  shoe.  He  clenched  the  talisman  in  a 
savage  fist  and  heaved  it  from  him.  It  fell  on 
the  foot  of  the  bed  and  attached  itself  to  the 
surface  of  a  blanket.  The  Wildcat  flopped 
himself  down  and  tried  to  groan  himself  to 
death.  He  groaned  himself  to  sleep  instead. 
He  was  pretty  handy  when  there  were  any  jobs 
of  eating  or  sleeping  to  be  done.  Presently  he 
dreamed  of  yaller  shoes  and  cascades  of  four- 
leaved  clover.  "I'se  a  mil'tary  Wile-cat  and 
I'se  on  my  prowl !  Wah  Germans  is  like  gal- 
lopin'  dominoes — only  us  boys  hauls  dead  ones 
on  railroads!  Shoots  five  dollahs — Ah  needs 
action!"  The  Wildcat's  lower  jaw  sagged 

[17] 


THE  WILDCAT 


down  something  less  than  a  foot.  Witl 
half  trying  he  slept  until  an  hour  past  nooi 
the  next  day. 

IV 

The  Wildcat  awakened  to  confront  a  threat 
ening  past  and  a  tolerably  measly  future.  The 
window  of  the  room  was  clouded  with  a  drizzle 
of  rain.  The  smell  of  something  frying  in  hot 
grease  suggested  that  a  little  grub  might  come 
in  handy  for  a  hungry  prowler.  "Ain't  et  me 
nothing  a-tall  since  Mis'  Minny  consecrated 
me  to  cuttin'  that  ol'  elephant  of  a  lawn." 

Dressing  consisted  of  the  simple  business  of 
putting  on  his  shoes  and  hat.  The  floppity 
front  of  the  left  shoe  was  lashed  to  contact 
with  the  sole  of  the  Wildcat's  foot  by  means  of 
a  piece  of  string.  "Yaller  shoes,  three-fifty, — 
I  don't  need  you  nohow  in  the  summertime." 

Downstairs  the  empress  of  the  boarding 
house  was  rendering  grease  from  some  bacon 
rinds  which  a  white  lady  had  bestowed  upon 
her.  The  Wildcat  looked  things  over  and  sug 
gested  that  a  little  breakfast  might  build  up  his 
run-down  constitution. 

The  Amazon  eyed  him  with  the  caressing 
[18] 


THE  WILDCAT 


;  of  an  active  rattlesnake.    "Brekfus' — you 
befnrin'  brekfus'  an*  dinner  cleared  up  an  hour 

<~>O  i 

ago.  You'se  rollin'  heavy  if  you  gits  any  sup- 
peh,  you  triflin'  fiddle- footed  mushrat !  Clear 
outen  heah !" 

The  Wildcat  lost  interest  in  breakfast.  The 
white  man  had  said  something  about  a  military 
burial  in  case  the  rendezvous  at  the  Provost 
Marshal's  office  in  Memphis  was  delayed  be 
yond  noon.  "Mis'  Lou,  whut  time  does  the 
clock  say  now?" 

"Inch  pas'  two  o'clock." 

953,497  selected  from  the  several  evils  which 
confronted  him  that  one  which  led  away  from 
the  military  burial.  Eliminating  the  Memphis 
quadrant  from  the  circle  of  fate  there  remained 
the  railroad  track  which  led  South,  the  impos 
sible  Mississip'  to  the  West,  and  the  Swamp 
Road  leading  East.  The  Swamp  Road  was 
pretty  fair  except  that  a  boy  traveling-  that  way 
had  to  pass  the  Hangin'  Tree  where  a  piece  of 
the  chokin'  rope  still  dangled  from  a  lower 
limb. 

The  Wildcat  rolled  up  a  blanket  from  the 
bed  where  he  had  slept  and  tossed  it  gently 
out  of  the  window.  In  making  his  exit  he 

[19] 


THE  WILDCAT 


was  careful  to  avoid  Mis'  Lou.  He  sneaked 
down  the  back  street  with  his  blanket  and 
headed  for  the  railroad  track  which  led  South. 
.  .  .  Farewell,  muddy  horseshoe  bend  in  the 
rollin'  Mississip' ;  farewell  Hangin'  Tree  on  the 
Swamp  Road;  farewell  Military  Burial. 

953*497  reached  the  railroad  yards  and 
headed  down  the  track.  The  Wildcat  was  on 
his  prowlin'  way. 

"I  don't  bother  work,  work  don't  bother 


[20] 


CI          £R  II 

' 


At  the  lower  end  of  the  railroad  yard  a  sol 
dier  stepped  from  between  a  pair  of  boxcars 
and  pointed  a  shiny  new  bayonet  at  the  Wild 
cat's  digestive  system.  Behind  the  bayonet 
was  the  biggest  rifle  the  Wildcat  had  ever  seen. 

The  soldier  strayed  a  little  from  the  words 
of  the  manual.  "Nigger,"  he  demanded, 
"where  in  hell  is  you  headed  for?" 

After  a  while  the  Wildcat  regained  partial 
control  of  his  lower  jaw.  "Provo5  man's  place 
in  Memphis  f 'r  'quipment,"  he  stated. 

"Corp'l  th'  guard — post  number  six!"  the 
sentry  bawled.  The  Wildcat  rolled  his  eyes. 
The  corporal  appeared  convoying  an  automatic 
pistol  whose  sagging  volume  was  eloquent  of 
military  burials. 

"White  man  with  a  papeh  tol'  me  my  num 
ber  an'  could  I  git  to  Memphis  in  time  for 
dinneh.  I  got  headed  round  somehow " 

"Boy,  head  round  again  an'  head  quick." 

[21] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  executed  an  efficient  but  techni 
cally  imperfect  "About  Face."  Ten  minutes 
later  in  a  box  car  filled  with  twenty  more  high 
numbers  he  was  en  route  for  Memphis.  In  an 
hour  the  car  was  disgorging  its  brunet  accu 
mulation  under  the  smoky  tramshed  in  the 
Memphis  station.  A  group  of  officers  con 
fronted  the  Wildcat  and  his  associates.  One 
of  these  gentlemen  with  a  long  paper  in  his 
hand  was  reading  numbers, 

"953,497-" 

''Gin'ral,  heah  I  is."  The  Wildcat  stepped 
forward  to  whatever  kind  of  military  funeral 
might  await  him. 

The  officer  consulted  his  list.  "Son,  is  your 
name  Vitus  Marsden?" 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh." 

"Line  up  over  there  with  those  other  boys, — 
and  don't  call  me  'gin'ral.'  " 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh !"  Anything  to  oblige  was 
the  present  policy.  The  "Gin'ral"  had  a  low 
voice  like  a  good  poker  player.  The  Wildcat 
decided  that  the  ''Gin'ral"  was  white  folks. 

That  night  the  Wildcat  slept  in  a  long  cot 
ton  shed.  At  quarter  to  ten  a  lusty  bugler  blew 
the  call  to  quarters.  "Whut  dat  horn  mean?" 

[22] 


ME  WILDCAT 


Jie  Wildcat  demanded  of  an  experienced  sol- 
iier  in  soidie;  lothes. 

"Sign  the  ;•  .  arym'  some  noisy  nigger/'  the 
experienced  soldier  informed  him. 

Taps  blared  with  a  suddenness  to  be  ex 
pected  of  Gabriel  only.  "Buryin'  us  boys  as 
fast  as  they  ketch  us/'  the  Wildcat  decided. 
He  rolled  his  blanket  around  his  head  and  re 
signed  himself  to  whatever  hand  the  fates 
might  deal  from  their  stacked  deck. 

Something  tickled  his  ear.  "Cotton  creeper 
mos'  likely."  He  reached  for  the  offending  in 
sect  and  inspected  it.  It  was  the  four-leaved 
clover,  considerably  the  worse  for  wear,  which 
he  had  cast  from  him  the  night  before  in  the 
boarding  house.  "Cloveh,  you  hell-raisin' 
houn' — Fse  gonna  eat  you!"  He  ground  the 
four-leaved  Nemesis  to  a  pulp. 

The  sergeant  in  charge  of  quarters  turned 
out  the  lights.  The  Wildcat  kept  thinkin'  and 
ponderin'  about  military  burials  and  hauling 
dead  Germans  in  front  of  cannons.  In  his  mis 
ery  he  decided  to  let  the  Gin'ral  help  him  worry. 
There  was  one  man  what  acted  like  white  folks. 
He  fell  asleep  with  the  "Gin'ral"  between  him 
and  the  military  funeral  and  the  dead  Germans 

[23] 


THE  WILDCAT 


and  the  Hangin'  Tree  and  the  rest  of  the  pes- 
terin'  things  that  wildcats  hate. 

So  far  the  Wildcat  had  missed  four  meals. 


ii 

Reveille  sounded  The  Wildcat  blinked 
himself  into  the  cold  realities  of  life  and  sat 
up.  "Boy/'  he  said  to  the  ginger-faced  youth 
next  to  him,  "boy,  what  us  needs  is  some  side 
meat  an'  gravy  an'  biscuits  an'  ,  .  .  when  does 
us  eat?" 

He  put  on  his  shoes  and  sought  out  a  soldier 
with  three  chevrons  on  his  sleeve.  "Podnah, 
where  at  is  us  boys'  brekfus'  'quipment?" 

The  sergeant,  old  in  the  service,  gave  the 
Wildcat  his  second  lesson  in  military  etiquette. 
The  Wildcat  figgered  that  if  there  was  any 
card  lower  than  a  deuce  in  the  military  deck, 
he  was  it.  For  the  balance  of  the  day  he  waited 
for  some  other  boy  to  start  something.  In  the 
afternoon  he  passed  the  medical  examination 
and  stood  in  line  for  an  hour  until  his  uniform 
and  equipment  were  issued  to  him.  He  was  as 
signed  to  Company  C  of  the  Battalion.  At 
four  o'clock  the  company  formed  for  the  first 

[24] 


THE  WILDCAT 


time.  The  Wildcat  sized  down  to  Squad  7  and 
took  his  place  in  the  front  rank. 

''Company  %  .  ,  'tenshun!"  The  sergeant 
observed  a  sudden  epidemic  of  protruding 
stomachs.  "Co'pals  will  be  selected  at  Retreat 
for  their  mil'tary  bearin'.  When  I  tells  you 
'At  ease'  you  eases, — when  I  tells  you  'at  rest' 
you  talks.  'At  Rest!'" 

The  boy  behind  the  Wildcat  talked.  He 
talked  at  the  Wildcat.  "If  Cap'n  finds  that 
meat  plow  you's  totin'  you'll  be  at  res' — after 
the  funeral." 

The  wreight  of  the  Wildcat's  shaving  razor 
suddenly  rested  heavy  between  the  shoulder- 
blades  of  his  conscience.  "Boy,  how  come?" 

"You  know  how  come, — an'  it  stickin'  out 
agin'  yo'  coat  like  ol'  hawg's  backbone." 

The  Wildcat  straightened  up.  At  Retreat 
he  had  shifted  his  social  razor,  but  he  was  still 
acutely  straight.  The  Captain's  "Ten'shun" 
nearly  threw  him  over  backward. 

Because  of  his  military  bearing  the  Wildcat 
became  corporal  of  his  squad. 

One  minute  after  Taps  the  Wildcat  gave  his 
•first  command.  "Lootenant  says  shut  up  when 

[25] 


THE  WILDCAT 


de  Taps  horn  blows.  She  done  blow.  Shut 
up!" 

Out  of  the  darkness  came  an  impudent  in 
quiry:  "An'  who  is  you?" 

'Tse  yo'  Co'pal." 

From  another  corner  of  the  tent  there  came 
a  whisper  of  derision.  "Huh — when  de  Loo- 
tenant's  gone  dey  ain't  no  co'pals !" 

The  Wildcat  fumbled  around  for  an  instant 
and  then  walked  softly  toward  the  source  of 
the  whisper.  He  lighted  a  match  with  his  left 
hand.  In  his  right  there  waved  a  razor  with 
the  meanest  blade  Squad  7  had  ever  seen.  The 
match  burned  out.  Until  reveille,  Squad  7 
snored  heavily. 

in 

As  near  as  the  Wildcat  could  figger  the  war 
consisted  of  free  rations,  free  clothes,  a  little 
prancin'  round  and  considerable  work  with 
picks  and  shovels.  Trench  practice  was  the 
order  of  the  day,  and  for  three  weeks  the  Com 
pany  dug  trenches.  A  jack-rabbit,  springing 
from  section  F-63  of  the  advance  sector,  run 
ning  through  the  Skagg's  pasture,  led  four 
members  of  the  Wildcat's  family  a  chase  that 


THE  WILDCAT 


terminated  in  the  guardhouse,  but  with  this  ex 
ception  the  squad  had  an  excellent  record.  The 
Colonel  was  pleased  to  remark  the  fact  within 
hearing  of  the  Wildcat.  With  cyclones  selling 
at  two  cents  a  ton  the  Wildcat  figured  Squad  7 
was  about  twelve  dollars'  worth. 

Following  three  weeks  of  Rumor,  came  Or 
ders. 

Box  cars  to  an  Atlantic  port,  a  few  hours  in 
the  long  pier  against  which  the  transport  lay, 
and  then  four  decks  below  the  surface  of  the 
harbor  the  Wildcat  realized  that  as  a  boiled 
egg  he  was  something  under  ninety  seconds. 
All  the  steamboats  he  was  ever  on  were  made 
of  wood  and  a  nigger  could  look  over  the  side 
and  see  land  once  in  a  while,  but  this  old  ele 
phant  of  an  iron  boat  was  a  jail  with  four  or 
five  cellars. 

"Whut  grieves  my  gizzard  mos'  is  why  is  oP 
boat  so  res'less  an'  uncertain  whah  at  is  she 
gwine,"  the  Wildcat  objected.  "Rockin'  round 
all  de  time  like  a  bog-down  mule." 

The  third  day  out  a  strange  bugle  call  floated 
down  from  the  deck  above.  "Co'pal,  whut  dat 
horn  mean?"  a  startled  member  of  Squad  7  de 
manded.  The  Wildcat  was  pretty  well  scared 

[271 


THE  WILDCAT 


himself,  but  he  managed  to  pick  his  cue  from 
a  yell  in  the  far  corner  of  the  compartment 
where  the  sergeants  bunked. 

"Pay  day,  boy — ain't  you  been  a  soldier  long 
enough  to  rekonize  money  when  she  sings  at 
you?" 

An  hour  later  pay  day  had  gravitated  to  a 
group  of  hardboiled  professionals  whose  skill 
as  crap  shooters  was  advertised  by  their  sev 
eral  accumulations  of  paper  money.  The  Wild 
cat,  still  in  the  game  and  going  stronger  every 
second,  was  rolling  some  harvest  ivory.  Re 
stricted  in  the  calisthenics  of  chance  by  the  fact 
that  his  guardian  knees  covered  two  bales  of 
greenbacks,  about  all  he  could  do  was  to  sweat 
and  win  money.  Coming  out,  his  opening  palm 
spelled  seven  or  eleven  with  monotonous  regu 
larity.  "Shoots  fifty  dollars, — shower  down, 
brothers,  shower  down!  .  .  .  five-spot  an*  a 
li'l  deuce.  ...  I  lets  it  lay.  .  .  .  Shower  down, 
brothers,  shower  down !  ...  an'  I  six-aces  fo' 
my  home  on  high !  Fade  me,  niggers,  fade  me, 
— I'se  a  miFtary  wile-cat,  an'  I  shoots  it  all, 
.  .  .  five  an'  six  is  'leven!  Li'l  green  leaves 
come  back  where  at  you  growed.  I  rolls  a 
[28] 


THE  WILDCAT 


hund'ed  an'  de  boat  rolls  me.  Shower  down 
yo'  money,  brothers " 

"Ten'shun!" 

At  the  foot  of  the  companionway  stood  the 
Lootenant.  Presently  he  began  to  read  out 
loud  from  a  paper.  "Special  Orders  Number 
3,  Headquarters  First  Service  Battalion: 
Gambling  on  board  this  ship  by  members  of 
this  Battalion  is  forbidden.  Offenders  will  be 
placed  under  arrest,  in  confinement  and  tried 
by  Special  Court.  Signed :  Colonel  Command 
ing." 

The  Lootenant  added  an  emphatic  verbal 
endorsement:  "If  I  catch  any  of  you  niggers 
shootin'  craps  I'll  skin  the  livin'  hell  out  of 
you." 

The  Wildcat  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  bunk  and 
counted  up  as  high  as  he  could.  "I  figgers  I 
wins  sumpin'  like  a  thousan'  dollahs, — an'  heah 
is  me  an'  de  money  safe  an'  sound." 

From  a  sack  of  mail  delivered  on  board  at 
the  hour  of  the  ship's  departure  a  letter  ad 
dressed  to  the  Wildcat  reached  him  as  he  fin 
ished  counting  his  money.  He  laid  the  money 
beside  him  and  summoned  a  school  nigger. 
"Boy,  read  me  this  here  letter  what  she  say." 

[29]  ' 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  school  nigger  opened  the  pages  of  the 
letter  and  read  it.  "Letter  come  from  Mis' 
Lou  at  de  boa'din'  house  sayin'  whah  at  is  'at 
blanket  you  took  an'  th'ee  dollahs  boa'd  an' 
heah  is  a  fo'-leaf  cloveh  fo'  good  luck,  an'  how 
is  you-all?  Good-by  an'  Lawd  bless  you,  savin' 
you  a  jar  of  pussonal  preserves  what  you 
likes." 

"Where  at's  de  cloveh?" 

The  school  nigger  shook  a  flattened  green 
talisman  from  the  envelope.  The  Wildcat 
picked  it  up.  "Cloveh !  Li'l  cloveh,  here  is  you 
and  heah's  mo'  money  whut  I  ever  see  befo' 
.  .  .  money  whah  at  is  you!" 

The  bale  of  greenbacks  had  disappeared. 

Mess  call  blew  a  minute  later,  but  the  Wild 
cat  was  not  hungry. 


[30] 


CHAPTER  III 


Ten  days  later  at  a  base  port  in  France  the 
ship  discharged  her  brunet  cargo.  "Feet, 
lemme  see  kin  you  trod  de  ground !"  The  Wild 
cat  felt  middlin'  good  in  spite  of  the  incidental 
discomforts  of  the  voyage.  Explosive  eggs, 
stewed  liver  and  the  restless  rockin'  round  of 
the  uncertain  boat  were  forgotten  and  in  their 
place  a  hundred  happier  impressions  formed: 

"I  eats  when  I  kin  git  it, 
I  sleeps  mos'  all  de  time, 
I  don't  give  a  doggone  if  de  sun  don't  neveh  shine. 

Dat's  why  Ise  as  happy  as  a  buh-humble  bee. .  .e 

I  don't  bother  work  an'  work  don't  bother  me !" 

"Fall  in !"  Company  C  formed  and  counted 
off  as  far  down  the  line  as  the  tenth  squad 
without  getting  balled  up  and  executed  a 
squads  right  that  found  only  about  half  its 
members  running  wild  and  finally  hit  up  a 
route  step  for  the  long  hill  which  Jed  to  Camp 
Genicart. 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Where  at  is  we  headed  for,  co'pal?" 

"Res'  camp, — us  needs  rest." 

At  nine  o'clock  that  night  the  company 
reached  camp  and  dined  on  cold  canned  woolly 
beef  and  coffee.  For  the  next  three  hours  they 
erected  tents  and  dug  ditches  around  them  and 
then,  true  to  tradition,  the  evening  clouds  of  the 
Gironde  condensed  to  a  cold  rain  which  en 
dured  throughout  the  night.  At  midnight 
Squad  7,  drenched  and  middlin'  miserable,  laid 
down  on  some  wet  straw  and  pulled  some  wet 
blankets  over  its  wet  anatomy. 

"Whut  did  de  Lootenant  call  dis  camp,  co' 
pal?" 

"Res'  camp/' 

"Anyhow,  alongside  that  ol'  boat  dis  yere 
dry  Ian'  feels  steady  like  an'  nacheral." 

The  Wildcat  diverted  a  rivulet  of  rainwater 
that  suddenly  flowed  under  his  neck.  "Whut 
you  mean,  'dry'  Ian'?  Git  to  sleep!" 


n 

At  midnight  three  hundred  miles  further 
along  the  road  to  Berlin  a  general  commanding 
brigade  headquarters  lay  down  on  a  potato 

[32] 


THE  WILDCAT 


sack  in  the  corner  of  a  roofless  stone  barn  and 
smoked  the  front  ends  of  three  cigarettes. 
Then  in  a  sulphuric  bass  rich  with  the  tremolo 
of  passion  he  cursed  the  qualified  rain  and  the 
Service  of  Supply  and  called  for  an  orderly. 

"Ask  one  of  the  artillery  officers  to  come  in 
here  a  moment  and  then  get  me  G.  H.  Q.  on 
the  wire." 

The  orderly  saluted  and  faded  into  the  ad 
joining  room  where  in  a  manger  once  tenanted 
by  a  large  red  cow  a  Signal  Corps  man  lounged 
in  front  of  a  twenty  pair  board.  "Git  G.  H.  Q. 
an'  ring  the  Ol'  Man  when  you  git  'em/'  he  or 
dered. 

He  sought  another  section  of  the  barn  and 
addressed  an  officer  whose  cold  fingers  were 
stuttering  some  orders  into  a  rusty  typewriter. 
"Sir,  the  General  presents  his  compliments  and 
wishes  to  see  you  in  his  quarters." 

The  General  was  sitting  up  on  his  potato 
sack  when  the  artillery  colonel  reported.  "Jim, 
what's  the  maximum  H.  E.  barrage  range  for 
to-morrow's  advance?"  he  asked. 

"Eight  miles,  sir, — not  over  eight." 

"Our  front  is  four  miles  ahead  of  your  guns, 
— leaving  four  to  go.  I've  ordered  two  miles 

[33] 


THE  WILDCAT 


kicked  out  of  the  line.  Two  miles  is  two  miles 
on  paper,  but  when  the  babies  start  it's  hard  to 
hold  'em — and  if  they  make  it  five  or  six  where 
in  hell  are  they  at !" 

"Beyond  the  barrage.  Where  you  said — the 
ones  who  get  through." 

The  telephone  beside  the  potato  sack  rang. 
The  General  spoke  slowly:  "General  com 
manding  Censored  Brigade  speaking, — let  me 
have  Artillery  Staff.  .  .  .  This  is  General 
Commanding  Censored  Brigade.  How  in  hell 
do  you  expect  me  to  move  my  guns  with  these 
deleted,  gas-damned  skiddell  tractors  in  mud 
ten  feet  deep !" 

Artillery  Staff  at  G.  H.  Q.  yawned  and  asked 
the  General  what  he  could  suggest. 

The  General  spoke  a  little  faster:  "I  sug 
gest  that  you  fill  my  requisition  for  mules, — 
that's  what  I  suggest.  Fill  'em  quick  and  don't 
send  any  two-legged  ones  just  because  you're 
overstocked.  I  want  some  mules." 

The  General  hung  up  the  receiver  and  spoke 
to  the  artillery  officer  standing  beside  him :  "I'll 
try  to  get  you  some  mules,  Jim.  Until  they  get 
here  do  your  best  to  keep  the  guns  moved  up. 
That's  all.  Good-night." 
[34] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  General  lay  down  on  his  potato  sack  and 
pulled  his  trench-coat  over  his  head.  A  hun 
dred  miles  away  Artillery  Staff  smiled.  'The 
old  jug  head  is  lonesome  for  his  kind,  so  I  guess 
I'll  get  him  some  mules." 


in 

At  reveille  the  Wildcat  moved  himself 
around  slowly  and  warped  himself  into  shape 
and  figgered  could  (he  sleep  till  'zactly  one 
minute  before  the  breakfast  bugle  should  start 
a  stampede. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  the  company  circled 
around  the  cook  tent  absorbing  seconds  until 
even  the  grease  was  gone  from  the  bacon  pans 
and  the  coffee  became  a  sediment  of  dehy 
drated  grounds. 

The  Wildcat  returned  to  his  tent  after  break 
fast  and  squirmed  himself  into  his  nest  of  sat 
urated  blankets.  "Res'  camp,  heah's  whah  I 
gits  all  de  res'  whut  is." 

A  moment  after  he  had  settled  himself  for 
a  good  sleep  the  Captain's  striker  summoned 
him  to  company  headquarters.  "Cap'n  said 
come  a'runnin',  boy." 

[35] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"What  for  all  dis  runnin'  business!"  the 
Wildcat  protested.  "I  neveh  seed  such  a  pes- 
terin'  wah.  Whah  at  is  all  dat  res'  camp  busi 
ness  the  Lootenant  was  speakin'  about?" 

Five  minutes  after  the  Wildcat  had  reported 
to  his  captain  he  left  camp  in  the  wake  of  a 
Frencfi  officer  and  an  interpreter  and  headed 
for  a  remount  station.  In  the  Wildcat's  im 
mediate  charge  were  seven  other  members  of  C 
Company. 

At  the  remount  station  the  Wildcat  and  each 
of  his  companions  were  presented  with  eight 
mules  which  they  conducted  to  a  train  of  dinky 
French  freight  cars.  Presently  the  squad  had 
witnessed  the  flop-eared  charges  safely  loaded 
on  board  the  train.  An  hour  later  after  split 
ting  the  air  with  whistles  the  engineer  suc 
cumbed  to  the  plaintive  charms  of  the  conduc 
tor's  tin  horn  solo  and  the  braying  of  sixty- 
four  excited  mules.  The  train  departed 
through  a  maze  of  tracks  that  complicated  its 
escape  from  the  terminal. 

The  Wildcat  sat  in  the  open  side  door  of  his 
boxcar.  Behind  him  to  the  right  and  left  were 
grouped  the  restless  hind  legs  of  eight  mules. 
This  sinister  formation  endured  throughout 

[36] 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  first  day  of  the  journey  with  but  one  inter 
ruption,  during  which  the  train  stopped  in  the 
freight  yards  of  a  little  town  that  the  mules 
might  be  watered  and  fed. 

On  the  evening  of  the  third  day  the  French 
officer  who  had  traveled  with  his  interpreter  in 
the  passenger  car  at  the  head  of  the  train  ad 
dressed  the  Wildcat  and  his  two-legged  associ 
ates.  "You  will  detrain  at  once.  The  night 
will  be  spent  here,"  said  the  interpreter.  "At 
dawn  the  convoy  will  form  and  depart  for 
Headquarters  of  the  Deleted  Artillery  Bri 
gade,  thirty  kilometers  to  the  East." 

The  interpreter  and  the  French  officer  sought 
quarters  for  the  night  in  the  central  part  of  the 
town. 

The  Wildcat  fed  his  eight  mules  on  some 
hay  which  he  borrowed  from  a  stack  in  an  ad 
joining  field.  At  nine  o'clock  it  began  to  rain. 
The  inviting  shelter  of  a  deserted  stone  barn 
half  a  mile  away  had  painted  itself  into  the 
Wildcat's  mental  picture  of  his  surroundings 
and  at  ten  o'clock  the  eight  mules  and  the  Wild 
cat  were  comfortably  billeted. 

"At  ease,  mules,  at  ease!  Don't  you  know 
a  res'  camp  barn  when  you  sees  it  ?  At  rest !" 

[37] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  wrapped  his  overcoat  around 
him  and  crawled  into  a  pile  of  straw.  "Artil 
lery  parade  thirty  calamities  east  of  here, — 
mules  you  makes  it  easy  by  to-morrow.  At 
res'!"  " 

The  Wildcat  busted  his  previous  records  for 
long-distance  sleep.  Thirty  hours  later  he  woke 
up  and  felt  some  rested.  The  mules  were  evi 
dently  all  right  and  it  was  still  dark  and  so  he 
went  back  to  sleep.  "Us  needs  rest." 

About  this  time  the  Wildcat's  captain  read  a 
telegram  which  stated  that  the  corporal  of  the 
convoy  furnished  by  Company  C,  together  with 
eight  mules,  had  become  lost.  "If  I  ketch  that 
nigger,"  the  Captain  reflected,  "I'll  hit  him 
with  a  court-martial  sentence  that'll  age  him 
gray  in  hell.  I'll  lose  him  so  he'll  stay  lost" 


IV 

"I  kin  ride  a  freight  train, 

I  don't  pay  no  fare, 

I  kin  ride  a  freight  train  mos'  anywhere, 

Dat's  why  Fse  as  happy  as  a  buh-humble  bee-e-e — 

I  don't  bother  work  an'  work  don't  bother  me." 

"Mules,  squad  yo'self  east  an'  west  an'  see 
kin  you  eat  dis  heah  cloveh  field  in  fifteen  min- 

[38] 


THE  WILDCAT 


utes.  Us  leaves  fo'  de  ol'  artillery  parade  soon 
as  I  'sorb  my  travel  rations.  You-all's  got  thirty 
calamities  between  you  an'  suppeh — us  has  to 
travel." 

The  Wildcat  devoted  the  next  hour  to  his  ra 
tions.  Then  he  strolled  leisurely  down  to  the 
railroad  tracks  to  see  if  the  convoy  was  ready 
to  leave.  The  shock  of  surprise  which  he  ex 
perienced  at  discovering  that  his  companions 
had  departed  was  absorbed  by  the  knowledge 
that  he  could  sleep  mos'  anywhere  and  that 
Uncle  Sam  had  provided  him  with  travel  ra 
tions.  He  returned  to  the  stone  barn  and 
rounded  up  his  eight  mules.  He  headed  for 
the  main  street  of  the  village.  In  the  middle 
of  the  street  in  front  of  a  cafe  stood  a  negro 
soldier  in  a  blue  overcoat.  The  soldier  carried 
a  French  rifle  to  which  was  attached  a  long 
curved  bayonet. 

The  Wildcat,  leading  a  string  of  seven 
mules,  rode  the  eighth  mount  to  where  the  sol 
dier  stood.  "Podneh,  where  at  is  the  artillery 
parade  from  here?" 

The  soldier  with  the  rifle  glanced  at  the  sol 
dier  on  the  mule  but  did  not  reply. 

"Uppity,  I  ax  you  where  at  is  de  artillery 

[39] 


THE  WILDCAT 


parade  where  Fse  consecrated  to  carry  dese 
mules." 

The  Senegalese  soldier  with  the  rifle  grunted 
and  shook  his  head.  The  disgusted  Wildcat 
yanked  at  his  string  of  mules.  "I'se  seed  nig 
gers  what  couldn't  read  and  niggers  what 
couldn't  write,  but  I  never  seed  one  befoh  what 
couldn't  talk!  Come  'long  here,  mules!  Us 
heads  east  like  de  Lootenant  said,  where  de  sun 
shines  early  in  de  mawnin'." 

The  Wildcat  traveled  down  an  excellent  road 
lined  on  both  sides  with  trees.  He  rode  for 
three  hours,  encountering  the  motor  traffic 
common  to  the  roads  of  France  in  the  Zone 
of  Advance.  Presently  he  came  to  a  stretch 
of  road  where  the  smooth  surface  gave  way 
to  a  rougher  construction.  The  trees  were 
no  longer  leafy  coverings  above  the  highway. 
Some  of  them  were  only  shattered  stumps. 

At  evening,  seeing  nothing  that  remotely  re 
sembled  the  headquarters  of  an  artillery  bri 
gade,  the  Wildcat  addressed  the  driver  of  a 
motor  truck  which  had  halted  beside  the  road. 
"Where  at  is  dis  yere  artille'y  parade  whut 
needs  mules?" 

The  driver  answered  without  turning  his 

[40] 


THE  WILDCAT 


head.  "Up  the  road  about  ten  miles."  He 
knew  nothing  of  artillery  location,  but  his  reply 
was  enough  to  discourage  further  travel.  The 
Wildcat  hazed  his  charges  along  the  road  un 
til  he  discovered  a  ditch  in  which  there  were 
a  few  inches  of  water.  "Mules,  us  camps 
here."  Night  had  fallen.  The  mules  were 
picketed  after  the  Wildcat  had  eaten  a  grati 
fying  segment  of  his  own  rations. 

The  chill  of  the  hour  before  dawn  awakened 
him.  He  collected  som.e  splinters  of  wood 
from  beneath  a  shattered  tree  which  stood  be 
side  the  road  and  lighted  a  fire.  For  perhaps 
five  minutes  he  lay  beside  the  fire  absorbing  its 
grateful  heat. 

Then  from  the  sky  above  his  head  there 
came  the  moan  of  a  motor, — a  rising  note  that 
whined  for  an  instant  before  the  world  blew 
up  about  him. 

The  next  thing  he  remembered  was  the  doc 
ile  manner  in  which  his  mules  submitted  to  his 
will  as  they  galloped  in  the  dark  along  the 
broken  road. 

The  mules  were  thinking  over  their  several 
sinful  lives  and  the  Wildcat  was  thinking  kin 
a  mule  outrun  an  earthquake.  The  procession 

[41] 


THE  WILDCAT 


endured  for  half  an  hour.  Never  for  a  mo 
ment  was  the  steady  gallop  interrupted  until 
the  light  of  dawn  dispelled  the  terror  of  the 
night. 

The  Wildcat  looked  around  with  an  appre 
hensive  eye.  He  did  not  like  the  look  of  the 
country.  The  terrain  was  marked  with  cra 
ters  which  fringed  the  road  and  expanded  into 
the  hills  on  either  side.  Strands  of  broken 
barbed  wire  hung  from  succeeding  lines  of 
posts  and  on  either  hand  irregular  trenches 
narrowed  to  the  horizon. 

"Sho'  is  poor  farmin'  land — wonder  to  me 
how  folks  makes  any  crop  a-tall  on  Ian'  like 
dis  yere.  Sho'  wastin'  lots  of  good  fencin' 


wire." 


Against  a  strand  of  wire  from  which  hung 
shreds  of  stained  gray  cloth  the  Wildcat  found 
a  sabre  red  with  rust.  The  owner  was  no 
where  to  be  seen  and  the  Wildcat  appropriated 
the  weapon.  "Good  soa'd  come  in  mighty 
handy  f'r  leadin'  parades  with  when  us  gits 
home.  Git  up,  mule !" 

The  Wildcat  waved  his  sabre.  His  mules 
accelerated  their  pace  with  a  lunge,  and  then 
urged  to  extreme  endeavor,  not  by  the  Wild- 

'  [42] 


THE  WILDCAT 


cat's  yells  nor  by  his  waving  blade,  but  by  the 
barrage  of  the  zero  hour  which  rocked  the 
earth  around  them,  the  eight  mules  charged 
across  a  field  which  suddenly  began  to  bloom 
with  shrapnel. 

"Mules,  de  Lawd  is  our  Shepherd, — us  needs 
some  gin !"  The  Wildcat  saw  some  gray  clad 
figures  running  toward  him  out  of  the  smoke. 
They  were  without  weapons  and  their  arms 
were  upraised. 

"White  folks,  come  heah !"  With  his  sword 
the  Wildcat  waved  at  the  men  in  gray.  They 
came  running  toward  him.  "How  does  us  git 
out  of  dis  heah  wah?" 

"Kamerad,  kamerad!" 

"Gimme  ride,  gimme  ride, — git  on  dese 
heah  mules  an'  ride.  Us  gwine  f'm  dis  wah 
sudden.  Git  on !  Us  leaves  now !" 

.The  Wildcat  and  seven  mules  loaded  with 
bosches  started  away  from  the  war.  Each  mule 
except  that  one  which  the  Wildcat  rode  car 
ried  two  or  three  riders  and  alongside  the 
group,  seeking  the  false  security  of  compan 
ionship,  twenty  additional  prisoners  had  coag 
ulated  from  the  mob  of  their  fellows. 

Thus  escorted,  the  Wildcat  rode  through  the 

[43] 


THE  WILDCAT 


wave  of  the  first  advance  and  the  supports. 
He  arrived  finally  at  a  zone  of  comparative 
quiet  within  the  French  lines  where  he  was 
confronted  by  a  group  of  French  officers  stand 
ing  beside  a  mud-splashed  racing  car.  One  of 
them,  a  tired  looking  gentleman  whose  stars 
of  rank  were  as  bright  as  the  keen  gray  eyes 
with  which  he  surveyed  the  Wildcat,  spoke  to 
an  officer  beside  him.  The  officer  approached 
the  Wildcat. 

"Is  it  that  you  alone,  monsieur,  armed  only 
with  a  sabre,  retrieve  these  prisoners?" 

The  Wildcat  did  not  understand  many  of 
these  high  sounding  words.  "Yes,  suh,  gin'ral 
— me  an'  dese  yere  artill'y  parade  mules  was 
alone  an'  runnin'  an'  up  come  some  white  folks, 
— 'gimme  ride,  gimme  ride' — an'  I  lets  'em 
ride  an'  heah  us  is." 

Jhe  French  officer  patted  the  Wildcat  on  the 
shoulder:  "My  brave!  Of  such  is  your  glori 
ous  army.  The  general  Americaine  shall  be 
informed.  Your  name,  and  of  what  regi 
ment?" 

The  Wildcat  fished  for  his  identity  tag. 
"Cop'al  Vitus  Marsden,  953,497>  Company  C, 
[44] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Fust  Service  Battalion,  fr'm  Memphis,  Ten-o 


see." 


The  officer  recorded  the  data  in  his  notebook. 
He  held  his  hand  out  to  the  Wildcat  in  parting. 
"And  now,  brave  corpora-!,  adieu !" 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh,  an'  kin  you-all  tell  me 
where  at  is  headquarters  artillery  parade?" 

"Headquarters?  .  .  .  but  yes  ...  it  is  of 
the  adjoining  artillery  headquarters  that  you 
speak.  A  courier  shall  accompany  you  as 
guide/' 

The  Wildcat  accumulated  his  mules.  The 
"gimme  ride"  white  folks  had  disappeared.  A 
French  soldier  mounted  one  of  the  mules. 
"Come  wiz  me,"  he  said.  As  the  Wildcat  rode 
past  the  French  officers  they  saluted  him. 
"Adieu  soldier  of  what  bravery!" 


[45] 


CHAPTER  IV 


At  Brigade  Headquarters  the  adjutant  ac 
complished  a  memorandum  receipt  for  the  eight 
mules  and  signed  a  travel  order  for  the  Wild 
cat. 

An  orderly  delivered  the  documents.  "Whut 
does  I  do  now?"  asked  the  Wildcat  when  the 
orders  were  handed  him. 

"Read  your  orders." 

"Kaint  read  dis  yere  writin' — whut  does  she 
say?" 

The  orderly  glanced  at  the  pages.  "She 
says  git  t'hell  back  where  you  come  from/' 

"Where  at  does  I  go?" 

"Ketch  a  truck  to  Chemin  Blanc  and  hit  th' 
rattler  f  r'm  there  south." 

"Where  at  does  I  git  me  a  ticket  an'  ra 
tions?" 

"You  don't  need  no  ticket  except  them  or 
ders  and  you  draws  rations  wherever  you're  at 
from  the  A.  E.  F.  troops.  On  your  way — on 
your  way." 

[46] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  arrangement  was  perfect  except  that  the 
Wildcat's  orders  were  not  transportation  on 
French  passenger  trains  and  that  A.  E.  F. 
troops  were  not  serving  meals  at  all  points 
along  the  lines  of  the  S.  O.  S.  south  of  Chemir^ 
Blanc. 

The  Wildcat  completed  the  two-day  journey 
in  eight  days  and  landed  A.  W.  O.  L.  in  the 
guardhouse  at  the  base  port  from  which  his 
company  had  marched  to  their  rest  camp.  The 
provost  marshal  telephoned  the  commanding 
officer  of  the  Wildcat's  company.  "Nigger 
with  some  stale  orders  by  the  name  of  Vitus 
Marsden  just  picked  up,  Captain.  Will  you 
come  down  to-morrow  and  get  him?" 

The  captain  cooled  down  enough  to  explain 
that  the  blankety  blank  Wildcat  wasn't  due  for 
anything  less  than  a  lynching  and  that  the  pro 
vost  marshal  might  as  well  keep  him  penned 
up  until  sentence  had  been  imposed. 

The  sergeant  of  the  guard  locked  the  Wild 
cat  in  a  special  apartment  reserved  for  bad 
military  eggs.  ''Sergeant,  I'se  hon'gry;  when 
does  I  draw  my  rations?" 

"You  won't  need  no  rations  after  the  firin' 
squad  gits  through  with  you." 

[47] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  tried  to  figure  out  the  nature  of 
his  offenses.  "Guess  mebbe  us  oughta  lef  ol' 
sword  layin'  gin'  de  wire.  Nobody  'ceptin' 
gin'rals  has  swords  as  fine  as  dat  .  .  .  won- 
deh  when  does  the  firin'  squab  shoot  me  .  .  . 
wisht  I  could  see  de  Lootenant.  .  .  ." 

That  night,  alone  save  for  the  cooties  aban 
doned  by  a  former  occupant  of  the  solitary,  the 
Wildcat  slept  middlin'  miserable. 


The  Captain  made  quick  work  of  the  Wild 
cat's  case.  The  Manual  of  Courts  Martial 
yielded  several  gratifying  charges,  amplified 
by  a  series  of  specifications  which  bade  fair  to 
imprison  the  Wildcat  for  a  hundred  years. 

Except  for  a  ride  both  ways  in  a  truck  and 
a  chance  to  plead  guilty  to  everything,  the 
Wildcat  gained  nothing  from  the  trial  of  his 
case.  The  Special  Court  dished  out  a  copious 
measure  of  punishment  in  a  brief  sentence  and 
the  documents  went  forward  to  the  General 
commanding  the  Base  Section. 

There  came  a  morning  later  in  the  week, 
when  upon  the  General's  wide  desk  the  charge; 
•  [48] 


THE  WILDCAT 


sheets  in  the  Wildcat's  case  awaited  the  signa 
ture  of  the  Base  Commander.  Attached  to  the 
charge  sheets  were  three  letters.  Beside  these 
documents  lay  two  small  packages. 

The*  General  glanced  through  the  charges 
and  specifications.  He  read  the  sentence  of 
the  Court  and  reached  for  his  pen.  The  at 
tached  letters  fixed  his  attention.  He  read 
the  first  letter  and  sat  forward  in  his  chair.  He 
threw  away  his  cigarette  and  jabbed  at  a  push 
button.  "Take  my  car  down  to  the  Provost 
Marshal's  place  at  once  and  return  with  a  ne 
gro  prisoner  who  is  in  confinement, — Vitus 
Marsden, — First  Service  Battalion."  The 
colonel  saluted  and  departed  on  his  mission. 

The  General  opened  one  of  the  small  pack 
ages  which  lay  on  his  desk.  He  read  the  third 
letter  attached  to  the  charge  sheets  of  the  Spe 
cial  Court.  "Well  I'm  damned!"  He  opened 
the  other  package  and  removed  its  contents, — 
"doubly  damned !"  He  again  read  each  of  the 
three  letters  after  which  he  jabbed  at  the  push 
button.  Another  colonel  entered  the  room.  "I 
want  all  of  my  staff  officers  in  here  at  once,  the 
officers  attached,  the  French  liaison  officers  and 

[49] 


THE  WILDCAT 


any  members  of  Headquarters'  Staff  who  may 
be  in  the  building/' 

He  reached  for  his  telephone  and  talked  for 
a  few  seconds  to  the  French  general  command 
ing  the  district. 

Presently  the  great  room,  was  filled  with  half 
a  hundred  colonels,  lieutenant-colonels  and  ma 
jors.  The  French  general  and  his  staff  en 
tered  the  room  and  for  a  moment  the  assem 
blage  stood  at  rigid  attention. 

And  then,  itching  promiscuously,  and  look 
ing  pretty  measly  alongside  of  so  much  con 
gested  military  rank,  the  Wildcat  shuffled  into 
the  room. 

The  General  raised  his  hand.  The  officers  in 
the  room  snapped  to  attention. 

"Sergeant  Vitus  Marsden,"  the  General  be 
gan,  "in  effecting  the  capture  of  thirty-seven 
of  the  enemy  you  have  won  the  Distinguished 
Service  Cross." 

The  General  pinned  the  decoration  on  the 
Wildcat's  blouse  above  the  place  where  the 
Wildcat's  heart  was  missing  every  fourth  flop. 

The  French  general  and  his  adjutant 
stepped  forward.  "Sergeant  Vitus  Marsden, 
brave  soldier  of  the  American  Expeditionary 

[50] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Forces,  in  the  name  of  the  French  Republic, 
by  orders  of  the  Commander  of  the  Armies  of 
France,  for  extraordinary  heroism  receive  the 
Croix  de  Guerre!" 

The  general  took  the  decoration  from  its 
case  and  pinned  it  fast  beside  the  Distinguished 
Service  Cross. 

The  Wildcat  sensed  the  reversal  of  his  fate. 

"Gin'ral,  I  is  sho'  proud  to  meet  you."  He 
glanced  downward  at  the  green  cross  upon  his 
breast.  "Looks  a  lot  like  a  fo'-leaf  cloveh." 

That  night  in  Company  C  the  Wildcat  was 
a  nach'ral  seven.  Scratching  himself  indus 
triously  he  looked  long  at  the  sergeant's  chev 
rons  on  his  sleeve  and  the  colored  ribbons  with 
their  pendant  crosses. 

"Dat's  why  Fse  as  happy  as  a  buh-humble 
bee-e-e. 


[Si] 


CHAPTER  V 


At  the  far  end  of  the  St.  Sulpice  railroad 
yards  the  Wildcat  started  his  spiking  crew  on 
its  clattering  career  after  which  he  declared 
a  personal  furlough  for  himself  on  the  strength 
of  his  Croix  de  Guerre. 

His  captain  was  some  place  else  and  the  Loo- 
tenant  was  out  of  sight  and  so  the  Wildcat 
ceased  his  struggle  toward  making  the  world 
safe  for  Democracy.  He  reached  around  back 
of  his  head  and  picked  a  bunch  of  grapes  i  :om 
a  discouraged  vine  in  whose  shade  he  was  do 
ing  the  best  he  could  to  rest  himself.  He  ate 
two  or  three  of  the  grapes  and  threw  the  rest 
of  the  bunch  at  a  saddle  colored  water-boy 
who  was  sprawled  out  on  the  warm  ground 
beside  him. 

"Lizard,"  he  said,  "how  come  grapes  is  free 
an'  no  good,  but  when  dese  French  folks  makes 
wine  f 'm  'em  us  niggers  pays  money  for  it  an' 
like  as  not  finishes  up  cote  martialed?" 

The  Lizard  assembled  his  organs  of  speech 

[52] 


THE  WILDCAT 


from  where  they  were  festooned  around  the 
lower  part  of  his  face.  "Wilecat,  how  come? 
Pusson'ly  I  likes  dis  yere  coon-yak  f'r  sudden 


action." 


"Ruckus  juice,  boy.  Ruckus  juice  an'  best 
let  be, — 'ceptin'  when  you  gits  a  all-day  pass  to 
Bo'deaux  on  a  Sat'day  an'  they  ain't  no  mo' 
work  befo'  Monday." 

"Water  ...  boy!  Water  me  like  a  mule!" 
Somebody  in  the  Wildcat's  spiking  gang  was 
thirsty.  The  Lizard  accumulated  himself  and 
started  away  down  the  track  with  his  water 
bucket.  A  mile  down  the  yard  the  quitting 
whistle  screeched.  "Tell  'em  to  pick  up  their 
tools  an'  bring  'em  in,"  the  Wildcat  called  after 
him. 

He  started  to  walk  to  camp,  two  miles  away. 
"Where  at  is  my  1'il  easy  rider  gone?  .  .  ." 
Halfway  to  camp  where  the  rising  masses  of 
the  half -completed  warehouses  of  the  great 
storage  depot  broke  the  horizon  the  Wildcat 
halted  and  looked  around.  Pretty  soon  he 
found  what  he  was  looking  for.  He  walked 
over  to  a  pile  of  scrap  lumber  against  which 
lay  an  old  gunnysack.  From  the  sack  he  drew 
forth  a  quart  bottle  of  white  wine.  He  sought 

[53] ' 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  secluded  interior  of  an  adjoining  ware 
house  and  for  five  minutes  he  applied  himself 
to  the  task  in  hand.  "Vinegar  juice,  jazz  my 
trailin'  feet."  Before  he  reached  camp  he  was 
feeling  middlin'  agile. 

The  Captain's  striker,  a  New  Orleans  brunet 
barely  able  to  eat  several  times  a  day  when  he 
war,  not  playing  a  guitar,  sat  in  the  doorway 
of  the  Wildcat's  quarters.  "Cinnamon,  you 
measly  dog-robbeh,  how  is  you?"  the  Wildcat 
asked  in  greeting. 

"Poo'ly  in  de  flesh  but  my  spirit's  rollin' 
high,"  the  troubadour  replied.  "I'se  Bo'deaux 
boun'  in  de  mawnin' "  he  added. 

"How  come?" 

"Cap'n  detailed  me  special  t  >  roun'  him  up 
some  mushrooms  an'  roosterfire  sauce  an'  some 
mo'  fixin's  fo'  a  dinneh  he's  givin'  to-morr' 
night." 

"Whut  day's  dis?" 

"Friday." 

"Cinnamon,  you  sure  has  a  drag  with  ol' 
Lady  Luck.  Heah  you  is  triflin'  roun'  all  day, 
'terpretin'  a  little  account  you  speaks  N'O'leans 
French  whilst  us  boys  busts  ourselves  buildin' 
railroads.  What  us  boys  needs  is  mo'  pleasure 

[54] 


THE  WILDCAT 


an'  less  work.  Wish  ol'  pay  boat  was  whis'lin' 
roun'  'de  bend.  Mebbe  us  work  ban's  could  git 
to  Bo'deaux  wuz  pay  day  heah." 

"Some  is  lucky  and  some  is  rich, — pay  horn 
sound  some  day,  Wilecat." 

"I  ain't  both.  See  kin  you  find  me  a  Mem 
phis  Blues  in  de  groan  box.  I  likes  it." 

Cinnamon  snatched  a  handful  of  me'ody 
from  his  guitar.  From  around  the  corner  of 
the  barracks  an  orderly  trotted  in  search  of  the 
Wildcat.  "Wilecat,  Cap'n  says  burn  yo'  feet 
arrivin'  at  his  quarters." 

"I  never  seed  such  a  pesterin'  war!"  The 
Wildcat  dragged  his  way  to  the  Captain's  quar 
ters.  "Wondeh  did  some  guard  see  me  wras- 
tlin'  ol'  demoitTwine  an'  tell  Cap'n." 

Generally  the  Wildcat  had  a  clouded  con 
science.  He  disliked  interviews  with  white 
folks, — particularly  the  officers  of  his  scom- 
pany.  "They  knows  me — wondeh  what  I'se 
'criminated  for  now." 

With  the  Captain  was  a  stranger  who  called 
himself  "Special  Representer  of  the  Colored 
Heroes'  Home  Tie  Band."  He  was  a  goggle- 
eyed  mulatto  product  in  linoleum  puttees  whose 
mission  in  life  was  to  impose  an  uplifting  in- 

[55] 


THE  WILDCAT 


fluence  on  soldiers  who  could  get  along  fine 
without  it. 

"Sir,  Sergeant  Vitus  Marsden  reports  to 
Cap'n."  The  Wildcat  stood  at  rigid  attention. 

" Wildcat,  how  many  of  you  boys  can 
dance ?" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh !"  The  Wildcat's  relief  had 
him  twisted  a  little  bit. 

"Boy,  listen  to  me.  I  asked  you  how  many 
of  you  boys  know  how  to  dance." 

"Cap'n,  suh,  mos5  all  kin  dance  some, — some 
knows  all  the  steps  what  is  an'  some  makes 
up  as  they  rambles  along." 

"How  many  of  them  can  read?" 

"Cap'n,  suh,  they's  'at  boj-  Cinnamon  an' 
DeWitt  Massey  an'  five  o'  six  triflin'  school 
niggers  an  Cube  an'  de  Backslid  Baptis'  an' 
.  .  .  mebbe  a  dozen  all  told, — but  mos'  of  ?em 
is  field  hands."  The  Wildcat  looked  sideways 
at  the  Special  Representer. 

"Wildcat,  that  spiking  crew  of  yours  don't 
give  you  enough  work  to  keep  you  out  of  trou 
ble.  From  now  on  I'm  goin'  to  work  you  day 
and  night.  I'll  issue  an  order  to-night  detailin' 
you  to  help  Special  Representer  Huntington 
Boone  with  amusements  and  entertainments 

[56] 


THE  WILDCAT 


and  educational  work  for  the  company.  What 
ever  he  wants,  you  do.  Can  you  read  and 
write?" 

"Cap'n,    suh,   I   learned   my   letters   but   I 
neveh  learned  my  words, — 'ceptin'  to  speak 


'em." 


"You  join  on  one  of  the  night  school  classes 
then.  Railroad  work  durin'  the  day,  night 
school  and  entertainments  for  the  company  at 
night, — I  guess  that'll  hold  you.  You  do  what 
ever  Boone  wants  you  to  do.  That's  all." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh.  Thank  you,  suh."  [The 
Wildcat  rendered  a  perfect  salute,  stumbled 
over  a  wastebasket  and  in  company  with  the 
Special  Represcnter  made  his  exit. 

ii 

Before  the  Wildcat  had  reached  his  quarters 
the  potential  alibis  of  his  immediate  future  had 
him  dazed.  "If  they  asks  me  where  at  was 
you  'stid  of  runnin'  them  spikin'  niggers  I  says 
Special  Representer  Honey  Tone  Boone  had 
me  detailed.  If  ol'  Special  Representer  says 
why  ain't  I  here  I  says  Honey  Tone  I  was  'cu- 
mulatin'  some  boards  f'r  some  seats  f 'r  a  show 

[57] 


THE  WILDCAT 


us  boys  is  plannin'  or  something — an'  all  de 
time  me  an'  Cinnamon  might  be  in  Bordeaux 
projectin'  roun'." 

The  Special  Represented  accomplice  steered 
a  course  to  the  company  kitchen  and  started  in 
to  uplift  a  roast  beef  sandwich  after  he  had 
absorbed  a  shot  of  lemon  extract. 

At  his  quarters  he  encountered  Cinnamon 
seated  in  the  doorway.  Cinnamon  looked  up 
at  him.  "Whut  did  Cap'n  do  to  you,  Wile- 
cat?" 

"Man,  O  man!  Us  boys  is  goin'  to  have  a 
meetin'  every  night, — shows  an'  cuttin'  de  buck 
an'  night  school  an'  a  general  ruckus!  OP 
Honey  Tone  runs  ol'  night  school  an'  I'se  in 
charge  of — of  the  Gran'  Military  Lodge  of 
Pleasure.  Dat's  me!  Boy,  distribute  some 
melody.  My  feet  feels  triflin'." 

At  suppertime  every  member  of  the  company 
made  a  verbal  application  for  active  member 
ship  in  the  Lodge  of  Pleasure.  At  nine  o'clock 
that  night  an  order  issued  putting  the  Wildcat 
in  charge  of  amusements  for  the  Company  un 
der  the  direction  of  the  Special  Representer. 
By  the  time  taps  sounded  the  Wildcat  had 
dreamed  a  dozen  plans  wherein  the  Lodge  of 

[58] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Pleasure  would  become  a  source  of  personal 
benefit  to  himself  and  a  select  group  of  his  in 
timates  who  could  remember  to  return  favors. 

"Lady  Luck,— at  yo'  feet,  at  yo'  feet !" 

Next  morning  before  work  call  sounded  the 
Special  Representer  sought  the  Wildcat.  "Ser 
geant,  what  entertainin'  games  can  you  sug 
gest  for  the  boys?"  Honey  Tone  was  begin 
ning  to  function  as  an  uplifter. 

"They  likes  Policy,  Sick  Horse  an*  Poker, 
some, — but  mos'ly  they's  got  cube  craze." 

The  Special  Representer  was  not  entirely 
clear  on  the  subject  of  cube  craze. 

"Clickin'  golf,"  the  Wildcat  explained,— 
"Gallopin'  dominoes  where  you  collects  on 
seven,  'leven  an'  yo'  point." 

"Fo'bid  by  regulations.  You  go  to  Bor 
deaux  to-day  and  buy  five  or  ten  sets  of  regu 
lar  dominoes  an'  checkers  an'  some  slates  and 
pencils  an'  to-night  we  starts  some  'musements 
in  the  company  mess  hall.  I'll  get  you  a  pass 
now  an'  you  can  come  back  on  the  seven  o'clock 
train  to-night." 

"Where  at's  de  money?"  The  Wildcat  was 
coldly  practical  even  in  the  ecstasy  of  his  free 
dom. 

[59] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Special  Representer  returned  from  the 
Captain's  quarters  with  a  pass  for  the  Wild 
cat.  He  handed  him  the  pass  and  a  fifty  franc 
note.  "The  Captain's  orderly  is  going  to  Bor 
deaux  this  morning.  You  go  with  him  and  he 
can  interpret  for  you.  To-night  the  entertain 
ment  will  consist  of  a  ten-minute  lecture, 
games,  maybe  a  song  or  two  and  educational 
features  for  the  first  class  in  reading  and  writ- 
ing." 

"Honey  Tone — yo'  sho'  is  a  whirlwind.  Us 
niggers  is  needed  you  a  long  time.  I'se  on 
mah  way."  The  Wildcat  galloped  around  the 
corner  of  the  barracks  in  search  of  Cinnamon. 
"Boy,"  he  said  when  he  found  him,  "boy,  you 
is  goin'  to  Bo'deaux,  is  you — well, — you  an'  me 
both!" 

"How  come?" 

"Lodge  o'  Pleasure  business.  OF  Honey 
Tone  details  me  fo'  gettin'  dominoes  an'  check 
ers  an'  slates  an'  some  mo'  utensils  fo'  a  gran' 
ruckus  what  starts  when  we  gits  back  to-night. 
If  you  is  ready,  le's  go!  I'se  rarin'  f'r  action." 

The  pair  started  down  the  track  toward  the 
station  which  lay  half  a  mile  from  the  barracks. 
Presently  the  train  dragged  itself  out  of  the 

[60] 


THE  WILDCAT 


distance  and  while  the  conductor  and  engineer 
and  their  several  grimy  accomplices  were  con 
suming  a  wine  ration  the  Wildcat  and  Cinna 
mon  climbed  into  a  third-class  compartment. 
In  the  compartment  were  half  a  dozen  negro 
soldiers  from  the  French  Congo  country. 

"Crowd  in,  Cinnamon, — what  fo'  you  hold- 
in7  back?" 

"These  boys  gin'ally  has  cooties,  Wilecat, 
an'  you  know  what  Cap'n  did  to  me  las'  time  I 
got  'fested." 

"Boy,  git  in!  What's  troublin'  you,  you'se 
'fraid  you'll  have  to  steam  yo'  raiment — I  never 
seed  such  a  fool  fo'  clothes.  Git  in!" 

The  Wildcat  boosted  Cinnamon  into  the 
crowded  compartment  and  wedged  him  into  a 
space  between  Libenga  Zongo  and  Pala  Dikoa, 
two  childish  fighting  men  from  Cameroun..  ? 

Cinnamon  produced  a  cigarette  from  his 
pocket  and  lighted  it.  "Boy,  gimme  one  o'  dem 
cigarettes  whut  Cap'n  smokes."  The  Wildcat 
held  out  his  hand.  "Gimme  dat  deck, — mebbe 
dese  boys  smokes."  He  handed  a  cigarette  to 
each  of  the  African  battlers.  They  exhibited 
the  clelightful  embarrassment  of  children.  By 
cold  comparative  statistics  an  American  ciga- 

[61] 


THE  WILDCAT 


rette  meant  more  to  each  of  them  than  a  week's 
pay. 

Presently  the  accomplished  Cinnamon  ad 
dressed  Dikoa  in  New  Orleans  French.  The 
Wildcat's  eyes  rolled  with  second-hand  pride. 
"Cinnamon,  you  sure  does  beat  all !  How  come 
you  talks  dis  boom-a-loom  talk  to  blue-coat 
niggers  whilst  I'se  speechless?" 

"They  speaks  French." 

"Go  'long — is  they  Lou'sana  boys  or  is  you 
lyin'  tome?" 

"Man,  I'm  tellin'  you  these  furlough  niggers 
is  French,  'ceptin'  the  skin." 

"Sho'  is  a  crazy  rig, — far  as  I'se  listened 
they's  plumb  dum.  Wuz  I  penned  up  'long 
with  these  boys  an'  us  was  hogs  I  couldn't 
grunt  'Good  mawnin' '  to  'em  if  I  was  stuck 
wid  a  Barlow.  How  come  these  furlong  boys 
is  niggers  an'  French  both?" 

The  problem  was  too  deep  for  Cinnamon. 

"I'm  goin'  to  ask  ol'  Special  Representer 
about  'em  when  we  gits  back.  I  bet  ol'  Honey 
Tone  can  'splain  all  about  furlong  niggers  an' 
why  is  they." 

The  Wildcat's  scientific  contemplation  en 
dured  until  a  cartload  of  bananas  at  the  exit  of 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  Bastide  station  in  Bordeaux  distracted  hinf. 
"Cinnamon,  wait  'til  I  gits  me  a  hand  o'  ba 
nanas  and  a  pocket  o'  goobers."  Thenceforth 
across  the  stone  bridge  which  spans  the  Ga 
ronne  the  Wildcat's  munching  jaws  kept  time 
with  his  marching  feet. 

"Keep  yo'  bottom  jaw  still  an'  chew  with  th' 
top  half  of  yo'  haid  an'  save  yo'  stren'th,  Wile- 
cat."  Cinnamon  was  mildly  critical. 

"What  yo'  mean?"  The  Wildcat  looked 
sideways  at  his  companion  like  a  mule. 

"I  means  yo'  is  overloadin'  yo'  neck.  Come 
oveh  heah  an'  us'll  git  us  a  r'ar  of  coon-yak." 

By  the  time  the  pair  reached  Rue  Ste.  Cath 
erine  the  Wildcat  was  stepping  heavy.  "Sho' 
is  gran'  that  streets  cross  each  other, — else 
where  at  would  they  put  these  gratifyin'  cafe 
saloons.  I'se  a  blue-coat  battler  an'  I  talks 
boom-a-loom  talk.  Cinnamon,  you  dressed-up 
preacheh,  come  on  in  dis  French  sto'  an'  tell  ol' 
mister  man  I  wants  some  fancy  clo's."  The 
Wildcat  dragged  his  companion  into  a  tailor 
shop  and  presently  the  tailor  was  running 
down  the  dimensions  of  the  Wildcat's  anatomy. 
"Tell  dis  man  I  wants  de  grandes'  clo's  what 
is.  I  needs  'em  f 'r  mah  Lodge  o'  Pleasure." 

[63] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  left  the  tailor  shop  staggering 
tinder  a  contract  to  deliver  six  hundred  francs 
within  two  weeks  from  that  time  in  return  for 
which  he  was  to  receive  two  olive  drab  uni 
forms, — "a  skin  tight  one  f  r  Sundays  an'  a 
loose  hung  one  f'r  week  days." 


[64] 


CHAPTER  VI 


iThe  pair  proceeded  to  a  near-by  cafe.  "Us 
gits  one  li'l  dram  mo'  of  coon-yak  an'  then  us 
gits  de  chores  done, — slates  an'  dominoes  an' 
yo'  roosterfish  sauce  an'  dem  fixin's  f'r  Cap'n." 

Seated  near  them  in  front  of  the  cafe  were 
several  groups  of  blue-coated  furlong  niggers 
talking  their  boom-a-loom  talk.  tThe  Wildcat 
offered  one  of  them  a  cigarette  and  was  imme 
diately  surrounded  by  a  dozen  of  them. 

"Set  down,  field  han's,  set  down.  Pacify 
yo'selves.  Cinnamon,  how  come  all  dese  boys 
idlin'  roun'  here  'stid  of  workin'?" 

Cinnamon  derived  a  few  statistics  from  his 
subsequent  conversation  and  relayed  it  to  the 
Wildcat. 

"Sho'  beats  all,"  the  Wildcat  reflected  aloud, 
"us  boys  workin'  day  and  night  an'  goin'  on 
ten  thousan'  boom-a-loom  furlong  niggers  rest- 
in'  here  all  de  time  in  Bo'deaux." 

"They  changes  off,"  Cinnamon  explained. 
"Sticks  Germans  a  year  wid  bay'nets  an'  blows 

[65] 


THE  WILDCAT 


'em,  up  wid  powdeh  an'  gits  a  week's  furlong 
f'r  it." 

The  Wildcat  evidenced  a  trace  of  sympa 
thetic  curiosity.  Through  the  accomplished 
Cinnamon  he  investigated  front-line  condi 
tions.  "Whut  does  they  git  to  eat?" 

Cinnamon  enlarged  upon  the  bread  and  wine 
ration,  sleeping  conditions,  cooties,  cognac  and 
combat.  "Wilecat,  is  you  figgerin'  on  a  shift- 
in*  roun'  some?" 

"Not  now, — but  I  was  jest  ponderin'." 

"How  come?" 

"Boy, — suppose  Cap'n  say  'lay  a  mile  o'  side 
track' — us  lays  it.  Then  suppose  it  rains  that 
night  an'  ol'  Napoleon  or  Sara  Jane  or  some 
other  hay  burnin'  enjine  gits  lonely  an*  starts 
'cross  th'  fields  fo'  a  visit  with  them  main  line 
enjines.  Cap'n  says  'burn  yo'  feet  gittin'  that 
enjine  back  on  de  track  an'  git  dis  wreck 
cleared  up' — us  does  it  ...  up  all  night  meb- 
be."  The  Wildcat  was  silent. 

Cinnamon  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  "Well, 
whut  of  it!  Drink  yo'  ruckus  juice  an'  le's 
ramble." 

"An'  ten  thousand  boom-a-loom  niggers 
loafin'  close  by  in  Bo'deaux,"  the  Wildcat  con- 
[66] 


THE  WILDCAT 


tinned.  "Cinnamon, — us  feeds  good.  Us  is 
got  tobacco  an'  mo'  cigarettes  whut  these  fur 
long  niggers  ever  saw, — you  tell  'em  I  says 
does  they  want  two  heavy  meals  ev'ry  day  an' 
all  de  cigarettes  they  can  chew,  all  they  got 
to  do  is  hunt  me  up  at  St.  Sulpice,  ready  f  r 
goin'  to  work." 

Cinnamon  opened  his  eyes  and  then  dropped 
his  lazy  lids.  "Where  at  is  uniforms  f'r  dese 
niggers." 

"The  Wildcat  met  him.  "Us  is  loaded  down 
with  spare  clo's.  Ol'  Supply  Sergeant  got  mo' 
in  case  we  runs  out." 

The  proposition  was  presented,  with  due 
elaboration,  to  the  furlong  niggers.  Cinna 
mon  turned  to  the  Wildcat.  "They  wants  to 
know  when  they  can  start  in." 

"Tell  'em  I  kin  use  a  hundred  han's  all  de 
time  an'  work  starts  Monday." 

And  thus  from  a  mixed  parentage  of  lassi 
tude  and  ruckus  juice  was  born  the  illegal 
boom-a-loom  contract  which  later  strained  the 
diplomatic  eloquence  of  a  dozen  Sam  Browned 
defenders  of  Democracy. 


[67] 


THE  WILDCAT 


II 

The  Wildcat  and  his  companion  said  fare 
well  to  their  furlong  friends  and  left  the  cafe 
in  search  of  the  sauce  for  the  Captain's  ban 
quet  and  the  various  instruments  for  use  in 
the  Special  Represented  uplift  movement.  At 
evening,  their  mission  accomplished,  the  pair 
sauntered  back  across  the  stone  bridge  which 
led  to  the  Bastide  Station. 

The  Wildcat  looked  down  at  the  ebbing  tide. 
"How  come  dis  yere  riveh  runs  one  way  in  de 
mawnin'  an'  backwards  at  night?  Sho'  is  run- 
nin'  upstream." 

"Boy,  you  is  so  full  of  ruckus;  juice  you  sees 
twisted." 

"I  sees  all  dem  big  steamboats  layin'  down 
stream  where  they  was  dis  mawnin',  an'  they's 
there  yet.  This  mawnin'  ol'  riveh  was  runnin' 
to'ards  'em  an'  now  it's  headed  dis  way." 

Cinnamon's  seaboard  science  was  equal  to 
the  occasion.  The  Wildcat  got  his  first  lesson 
in  tidewater  tactics.  "A  boy  could  ride  f 'm  one 
town  to  another  without  rowin'  a-tall,"  he  re 
marked.  "I  gits  in  a  ol'  skiff  here  an'  by  noon 
I'se  downstream  at  Pole-yak.  Den  I  sees 
[68] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Royan  where  de  Lannick  Ocean  is.  Den  de  oP 
riveh  turns  roun'  an'  f o'  long  heah  I  is.  Cin 
namon,  you  liah,  you'se  crazy  o'  I'se  twisted 


roun'." 


En  route  to  the  St.  Sulpice  camp  the  Wildcat 
perfected  his  plans  for  utilizing  the  wasted  en 
ergy  of  the  boom-a-loom  niggers.  By  the  time 
he  arrived  at  the  St.  Sulpice  station  his  project 
was  established  on  a  working  basis  in  which  he 
would  discover  no  flaw.  He  and  Cinnamon 
lagged  along  the  road  from  the  railway  station 
to  their  camp  until  Retreat  had  sounded.  Then 
they  made  a  rapid  march  for  the  cook-house. 
The  Wildcat  burdened  himself  with  a  sagging 
mess-kit  and  finished  dinner  in  third  place  for 
quantity  consumed.  "I  could  of  et  mo',  but 
I'se  had  a  hard  day, — mah  stren'th  faded  f 'm 
workin'  in  Bordeaux."  He  walked  to  his  bar 
racks  and  laid  down  on  his  bunk.  "Boy,"  he 
said  to  one  of  his  companions,  "when  dat  triflin' 
Cinnamon  gits  through  at  Cap'n's  mess  table 
tell  him  to  fetch  de  groan  box  heah  an'  play 
me  Memphis  Blues.  I  likes  it." 

"Wilecat,  ain't  you  heard  the  news?" 

"How  come?" 

"Gran'    ruckus   to-night — oP   Honey   Tone 

[69] 


THE  WILDCAT 


gives  us  a  talk  an'  starts  in  educatin'  us  an' 
den " 

The  Wildcat  sat  up  and  groaned.  "I  plumb 
forgot/'  he  interrupted.  "Here  I  is,  bow- 
legged  with  work  an'  boun'  to  help  ol'  Special 
Representer.  Wish  I  was  a  furlong  boom-a- 
loom  nigger,  'stead  of  'sponsible  foh  dis  Lodge 
o'  Pleasure  business." 

The  obligation  which  rank  imposes  and  the 
reaction  of  ruckus  juice  wrastlin'  with  three 
pounds  of  assorted  rations  rested  heavily  upon 
the  Wildcat's  conscience  all  the  way  from  his 
stomach  to  where  his  head  was  going  roun'  an' 
roun'.  At  seven  o'clock  when  the  Special  Rep 
resenter  found  him,  the  Wildcat  was  feeling 
forty  miles  from  noble. 

"You  rig  up  two  blankets  for  curtains  to 
night  and  a  stage  out  of  planks  at  one  end  of 
the  mess  hall  and  some  lights  and  have  it  ready 
at  eight  o'clock.  That's  when  the  show  starts." 
Honey  Tone  was  a  creature  whose  motto  was 
action  and  lots  of  it,  as  long  as  somebody  else 
did  the  work. 

"Whut  show?"  the  Wildcat  asked. 

"First  I'll  give  a  ten-minute  lecture,  then 


THE  WILDCAT 


we'll  have  some  music  an'  then  the  educational 
features  will  take  place." 

At  eight  o'clock  the  improvised  stage  and  its 
settings  were  completed.  In  appropriate  places 
along  the  mess  tables  were  dominoes  and  slates 
and  checker  boards.  As  soon  as  the  doors 
were  opened  the  long  room  rilled  with  its  audi 
ence.  The  doors  were  closed  and  presently  the 
house  warmed  up  to  where  it  had  the  classic 
cavern  of  Calcutta  gasping  for  breath.  Vari 
ous  individuals  in  the  audience  began  to  shine 
darkly.  Some  of  them,  perspiring  freely,  be 
gan  to  itch.  When  the  scratching  had  devel 
oped  a  general  cadence  the  curtain  on  the  stage 
parted  and  the  Wildcat  became  visible  through 
the  pungent  vapor  that  billowed  above  the 
Lodge  of  Pleasure.  Part  of  the  Wildcat's 
tongue  was  carried  in  his  mouth,  but  most  of  it 
was  draped  carelessly  around  his  chin.  "Ten'- 
shun !"  he  began.  "Us  is  'sembled  to  listen  to 
Misto  Honey  Tone  Boone,  Special  Representer 
of  the  Cul'led  Heroes'  Home  Tie  Band." 

"Dogged  if  it  ain't  ol'  Wilecat!" 

"Ten'shun, — let  ol'  Wilecat  preach  does  he 
crave  to." 

"Us   boys   needs   rest,"   the   Wildcat   con- 

[71] 


THE  WILDCAT 


tinued,  "an'  Honey  Tone  figgers  he  has  some 
to  spare.  I  bows  to  de  speaker  ob  de  evenin', 
Special  Representer  Boone."  The  Wildcat 
withdrew  behind  the  curtains. 

The  linoleum  leggins  squeaked  three  or 
four  times  and  Honey  Tone  faced  his  latest 
problem  in  uplifts.  He  bowed  grandly,  to 
starboard,  to  port  and  dead  ahead,  into  a  sea 
of  pop-eyed  faces.  The  improvised  stage  cur 
tains  closed  behind  him  .  .  .  and  behind  the 
curtain  a  gentle  interrupted  clicking  of  ivory 
cubes  on  pine  planks  became  audible. 

"Ignorance  is  the  curse  of  the  human  race," 
Honey  Tone  began.  "Specially  in  colored 
boys  like  you-all.  In  my  humble  way  I  pro 
pose  to  eradicate  yo'  ignorance  by  learnin'  you 
the  rudiments  of  knowledge.  First  of  all,  my 
hearers,  I  wants  statistices  on  you-all.  How 
many  of  you  ain't  never  learned  to  read, — 
stand  up  if  you  never  learned  to  read." 

Nearly  the  entire  audience  stood  up. 

When  they  were  again  seated  several  places 
near  each  door  were  vacant.  The  clicking  be 
hind  the  curtains  became  more  persistent. 

"To-night  after  a  short  discourse  from  a 
book  by  Mr.  Charles  Darwin,  the  reading  class 

[72] 


THE  WILDCAT 


will  be  inaugurated,"  the  Special  Representer 
continued. 

"Read  'em  an'  weep, — I  lets  it  lay."  A  hoarse 
whisper  punctuated  a  lull  in  the  gentle  click 
ing  behind  the  stage  curtains.  Honey  Tone 
heard  it  and  rubbed  the  index  finger  of  his 
right  hand  with  his  thumb. 

"For  forty  years  Mister  Charles  Darwin  pes 
tered  himself  try  in'  to  figger  out  the  famous 
scientific  problem  which  he  personally  pro 
pounded  to  some  of  the  brightest  lights  of 
learnin'  on  earth,  to  wit,  whether  the  chicken 
or  the  egg  come  first.  Then  he  'vestigated  all 
sorts  of  animals  an'  their  descendants  f'm  the 
ark  includin'  us  an'  foun'  out  we  was  all  ba 
boon's  nephews.  In  his  most  notorious  book, 
the  'Origin  of  Speechless,'  which  I  have 
chosen  for  my  text  to-night  he  proves  the 
Bible  was  right.  You  all  is  seen  these  blue- 
coat  niggers  from  Africa,  an'  you  has  asked 
yourself,  "How  come  they  dumb  as  far  as  our 
language  is  concerned?"  To-night  I  tells  you 
how  come,  by  readin'  you  the  first  chapter  of 
the  book  where  it  clears  up  the  point  why  the 
animals  lef '  the  ark  two  an'  two.  .  .  ." 

"Lily  Joe!    Two  an'  two  is  fo'l     Shoots  it 

[73] 


THE  WILDCAT 


all!"  The  stage  curtains  bulged  slightly  to 
ward  the  Special  Represented 

Honey  Tone  produced  a  book  from  his 
pocket  and  stepped  back  a  pace.  He  began  to 
read. 

The  string  suspending  the  stage  curtain 
broke.  Around  a  lantern  at  the  back  of  the 
narrow  stage  knelt  the  Wildcat  and  twenty  of 
his  associates.  .  .  .  "Come  seven !" 

"Wuz  hard  luck  a  dewdrop,"  the  Wildcat 
later  explained  to  Cinnamon,  "I  mus'  be  a 
lake." 


[74] 


CHAPTER  VII 


Before  work  call  blew  next  morning  the 
Wildcat  hunted  up  his  companion  of  the  previ 
ous  day's  journey.  "Cinnamon,  how  much  did 
them  clo'es  come  to  what  'at  man  showed  us 
yes'day?" 

"You  is  in  fo'  six  hundred  francs  foj  two 
sets.  Me, — I  jes  drug  along  an'  said  'Mebbe.'  " 

"How  much  in  money  is  dat?" 

"Odds  on  frog  jack  runs  of  six  to  one, — say 
a  hund'ed  dollahs." 

"I'd  had  it  made  las'  night  'ceptin'  Honey 
Tone  hadn't  stopped  us  boys'  pleasure  when  ol' 
curtain  string  busted  an'  'splayed  us."  The 
Wildcat  dragged  to  his  work  at  the  lower  end 
of  the  yard.  He  was  silent  until  he  reached 
the  first  fringing  house  of  a  village  which  lay 
midway  of  the  terminals.  He  stopped  sud 
denly  and  called  to  a  member  of  his  crew  which 
followed  him.  "Levi  Slaughter,  come  heah !" 

The  designated  victim  approached  his  ser 
geant.  "You  speaks  some  French, — come  'long 

[75] 


THE  WILDCAT 


wid  me."  The  pair  diverted  their  course  and 
presently  stood  before  the  proprietor  of  one  of 
the  houses.  "Ask  him  how  much  grass  cuttin' 
kin  he  do  alone  ?" 

The  question  was  accomplished  with  appro 
priate  gestures.  To  the  reply,  via  his  inter 
preter,  the  Wildcat  issued  an  ultimatum.  'Tell 
or  gobbler  us  is  aimin'  to  run  tracks  plum 
through  his  hay  an'  his  vegetable  an'  his  grape 
vines  some  day  nex'  week,  an'  kin  he  git  'em 
cleared  away  by  Wen'sday." 

Levi  Slaughter  complied  with  the  Wildcat's 
command. 

After  the  calisthenics  of  the  oriental  dance 
which  the  Frenchman  immediately  staged  had 
quieted  to  a  series  of  convulsions  no  more 
strenuous  than  the  Australian  crawl  stroke,  the 
Wildcat  played  his  ace.  "Tame  him  some !  I 
rents  field  han's,  tell  him,  fo'  a  franc  a  day, 
eight  hours  work,  an'  seein'  it's  him  he  kin 
have  a  hund'ed  Monday  to  he'p  him  harvest 
befo'  us  comes  th'oo  wid  de  tracks.  I  aims  not 
to  downtrod  him  none,  an'  if  his  fren's  needs 
niggers,  mebbe  I  kin  git  'em  some  mo'." 

With  wages  for  farm  labor  ten  francs  a  day 
and  none  to  be  had  except  indifferent  bosche 

[76] 


THE  WILDCAT 


prisoners  the  Wildcat's  offer  looked  like  the 
keys  to  the  Bank  of  France.  The  farmer 
surged  at  the  bait  and  the  verbal  contract  was 
accomplished. 

"Slaughter  is  yo'  name  an'  yo'  lives  up  to  it, 
pussonally,  if  yo'  lets  out  what  yo'  'ficially  'ter- 
preted  jes'  now."  The  Wildcat  sealed  the  lips 
of  his  companion  with  a  vivid  outline  of  what  a 
military  execution  felt  like.  "They  gin'ally 
shoots  low  an'  yo'  dies  wid  stummick  misery 
ten  days  afteh  ol'  firm'  squad  vaccinates  yo'." 

The  interpreter  looked  around  him.  "Wile- 
cat,  dis  is  'twixt  us.  Mah  mouf,  I  uses  mos'ly 
on  rations.  Wuz  keepin'  it  shut  a  dime  I'se  a 
millionaire." 

ii 

On  Sunday  night  the  first  straggling  mem 
bers  of  the  boom-a-loom  clan  passed  through 
San  Loubes  headed  for  St.  Sulpice.  At  dawn 
on  Monday  morning  the  road  between  Izon 
and  St.  Sulpice  was  lined  with  the  Wildcat's 
recruits.  At  breakfast  a  prowling  member  of 
the  Wildcat's  company  remarked  the  presence 
of  the  strangers. 

"Woods  is  swarmin'  full  of  French  niggers 

[77] 


THE  WILDCAT 


— must  a  seed  a  million  'twixt  here  an'  de  low 
groun'  by  de  riveh." 

The  Wildcat  hunted  up  the  supply  sergeant. 
"Us  boys  needs  mo'  work  do'es.  Han'lin'  rail 
an'  ties  wears  out  them  oveh-alls  faster'n  you 
issues  'em.  Turn  me  oveh  'bout  a  hund'ed 
suits."  The  hundred  suits  of  blue  denims  were 
issued  and  delivered  to  the  lower  yard  where 
presently  they  were  to  drape  the  figures  of  the 
Congo  crew. 

Before  he  went  to  work  the  Wildcat  con 
fronted  the  mess  sergeant  in  the  cook  house. 
"Grasty,  me  an'  you  is  fren's,  mostly,  ain't 
we?" 

Sergeant  Grasty  indorsed  the  statement.  "I 
says  us  is,  Wilecat — look  at  de  lemon  extract 
I  lets  you  drink.  How  come  you  inquirin' — 
ain't  you  advanced  me  ten  francs,  what  I  neveh 
paid  back — us  sho'  is  fren's.  How  come  ?" 

"Nothin' — only  I  hates  to  see  you  git 
slaughtered  by  a  band  o'  worthless  field  han's 
'count  o'  not  feedin'  'em  heavy  'nuf  rations. 
Lunch  what  yo'  sends  out  where  we's  workin' 
ain't  half  enough — so  they  claims.  They's 
plannin'  to  uprise  'gin  yo'  an'  deprive  ten  or 
fifteen  poun's  o'  meat  off  yo'  carcass  'less  you 

[78] 


THE  WILDCAT 


feeds  'em  mo'.  'At's  all  I  knows.  You  knows 
it  now/' 

At  noon  there  was  more  than  enough  extra 
lunch  for  the  hundred  grunting  boom-a-loom, 
brunets. 

The  supper  problem  was  more  difficult.  The 
Wildcat  sought  out  the  Special  Representer 
immediately  after  work  was  over  for  the  day. 
"Honey  Tone  dese  field  han's  is  steeped  in  sin 
— 'spose  you  preaches  a  snort  of  'ligion  each 
evenin'  befo'  suppeh  to  'em.  They  sho'  needs 
it.  They's  willin'  boys,  but  they's  soggy  wid« 
ruckus  juice.  They  craves  de  worldly  pleasure 
like  gravy  an'  side  meat  whut  gratifys  de  belly 
but  pollutes  de  soul.  Head  'em  roun'  to  glory 
an'  away  f  m  grub.  Yo'  is  de  shepard  wif  de 
crook  to  guide  'em  straight." 

The  limelight  urge  welled  strong  at  the  Wild 
cat's  pleading.  Honey  Tone  rounded  up  a  ho- 
sanna  vocabulary  before  the  Wildcat  had  en 
gineered  the  assembling  of  his  company  and 
presently  the  tar-paper  walls  of  the  mess  hall 
vibrated  with  the  resonant  syllables  of  reproach 
that  the  Special  Representer  hurled  at  his  hu 
mid  victims. 

Jhe  Wildcat,  consuming  a  pork  chop  in  the 

[791 


THE  WILDCAT 


kitchen  end  of  the  mess  hall,  listened  in.  "Hot 
damn !"  he  exclaimed,  "Grasty — was  big  words 
cooties,  Honey  Tone  sho'  would  itch!  Lissen 
at  him  go !" 

"Wuz  words  music  he's  de  whole  brass 
band,"  Sergeant  Grasty  agreed. 

The  Wildcat  attached  himself  to  another  ra 
tion  of  lemon  extract  and  then  started  from 
the  kitchen.  He  turned  to  the  mess  sergeant 
on  his  way  out.  "Whilst  I  thinks  of  it,  if 
they's  any  grub  left  over  f'm  supper  save  it. 
They's  some  boys  down  de  road  what  just 
'rived  in  an'  they  might  be  hongry.  I'll  come 
in  after  supper  an'  git  it." 

After  supper  three-fourths  of  the  food 
which  had  been  prepared  for  supper  remained 
in  the  kitchen.  "Honey  Tone  sho'  fed  'em  lan 
guage, — sho'  preached  'em  sick,"  the  Wildcat 
commented.  He  rounded  up  a  detail  of  trusted 
assistants  and  carried  the  food  to  the  jungles 
near  the  river  which  flowed  along  beside  the 
project.  About  their  several  tribal  fires  lay 
the  boom-a-loom  band. 

When  the  Congo  children  had  eaten  and 
were  rolled  content  beside  the  fires  the  Wildcat 
mentally  reviewed  the  mechanics  of  the  day's 

[so] 


THE  WILDCAT 


intrigue.  Step  by  step  he  traced  the  details  of 
his  project  and  as  each  element  of  the  program 
presented  its  factor  of  feasibility  his  dream  of 
easy  money  expanded. 

"Five  hund'ed  niggers  is  jes'  as  easy  as  one. 
Five  hund'ed  is  'at  many  francs.  Five  an'  five 
is  twelve  and  twice  twelve  is  two  dozen  an' 
two  mo'  days  to  a  week  comes  to  mo'  money  'n 
I  kin  count — but  startin'  at  a  hund'ed  niggers 
what  I  has  now  is  a  hund'ed  francs  a  day.  An' 
six  days  r~  what  de  tailor  says  two  suits  costs. 
To-mon  A  collects  up." 

The  next  day  the  Wildcat  collected  up.  For 
every  member  of  his  crew  he  obtained  a 
franc  from  the  French  farmer  for  whom  they 
worked. 


in 

Thursday  night  found  the  Wildcat  in  posses 
sion  of  four  hundred  francs.  On  Thursday 
night  his  friend  Cinnamon  suggested  that  the 
blue  uniforms  of  the  boom-a-loom,  niggers 
could  be  rented  to  any  member  of  the  Fust 
Service  Battalion  who  might  desire  a  day  in 
Bordeaux  unmolested  by  the  ever-present  Mili- 

[81] 


THE  WILDCAT 


tary  Police  of  the  A.  E.  F.  On  Friday  this  new 
strand  of  gain  was  woven  into  the  widening 
web  of  profitable  affairs. 

"Cinnamon,  us  sho'  goes  to  town  to-morr'. 
I  got  to  get  me  my  clo'es  an'  a  watch  an'  some 
mo'  fixin's — you  git  a  pass  f'm  Cap'n  an'  us'll 
have  one  gran'  ruckus." 

Late  Friday  night  the  Wildcat  rounded  up 
the  Special  Represented  "Honey  Tone,  get  me 
a  pass  f  r  all  day  to-morr'  f'm  Cap'n  an'  I 
brings  you  back  a  bottle  of  coon-yak." 

The  Special  Representer  bound  himself  to 
deliver  an  all-day  pass  for  two  bottles  of  ruckus 
juice.  "But  how  come  yo'  has  so  much  free 
cash  an'  pay-day  a  mile  away?" 

The  Wildcat  laid  his  affluence  to  fortune's 
favors  in  the  game  where  a  boy  collects  on 
seven,  'leven  and  his  point. 

"Wildcat,  teach  me  that  game.  At  school 
we  never  played  sin  games — I  never  learned 
it." 

The  Wildcat  laid  down  a  silver  franc  and 
from  their  sanctuary  in  a  pocket  of  his  uniform 
he  produced  a  pair  of  dice. 

"Fade  me — git  yo'  money  in  sight.  On 
seven,  'leven  an'  my  point  I  wins.  If  I  dooce, 

[82] 


THE  WILDCAT 


trays  or  twelves  I  loses — an'  I  loses  on  seven 
afteh  I  come  out." 

The  Wildcat  rolled  a  careless  brace  of  ivory 
and  lost  on  a  sneakin'  seven.  The  Special  Rep- 
resenter  risked  a  healthy  five  spot  and  dragged 
down  after  his  fourth  pass. 

Once  in  his  student  course  the  Special  Repre- 
senter  reached  his  right  hand  into  his  pocket. 
He  rubbed  his  fingers  lightly  over  a  lump  of 
rosin  which  he  carried  therein. 

"Wilecat,  I  shoots  a  hundred  francs,"  he 
said. 

Presently,  beside  the  lump  of  rosin  in  the 
Special  Represented  pocket  there  lay  a 
crumpled  roll  amounting  to  five  hundred 
francs. 

"Wilecat,"  who  ever'd  thought  I'd  win  all 
yo'  money.  Sho'  is  a  interestin'  game."  The 
Special  Representer  sought  to  dull  the  barbs 
of  his  success. 

"Sho'  is  interestin'  luck — yo'  missed  winnin' 
a  million  dollahs — how  come  I  neveh  had  it." 

The  Wildcat  sought  the  comparative  solitude 
of  his  bunk  where  presently  the  false  solace 
of  to-morrow's  dawn  lightened  the  heavy  pres 
ent  shadows  of  despair.  He  reflected  that  a 

[83] 


THE  WILDCAT 


week  would  bring  in  another  sum  equal  to  that 
which  he  had  lost  and  that  a  few  hundred 
francs  was  a  negligible  amount  to  a  boy  whose 
income  was  practically  unlimited.  "Say  a 
thousand  boom-a-looms  workin'  a  month — an' 
each  one  a-bringin'  in  a  franc  a  day  an'  us 
stayin'  here  on  this  job  six  months  more " 

Cinnamon  came  through  the  door.  "Nig 
gers,"  he  announced,  "I  jest  finished  packin' 
Cap'n's  trunks.  Us  leaves  in  de  mawnin'  to 
work  at  Bassens  Docks — we  is  in  dis  Race  to 
Berlin  unloadin'  boats." 

"Lady  Luck,"  the  Wildcat  groaned,  "good- 
by,  good-by." 

IV 

The  impact  of  financial  defeat  was  softened 
for  the  Wildcat  by  the  hard  work  incidental  to 
the  stress  of  his  transition  from  railroad  build 
ing  to  that  of  unloading  the  first  ships  of  the 
cargo  fleet  which  had  begun  to  reach  the  ports 
of  France.  All  his  vain  dreams  of  questionable 
gain  were  drowned  in  honest  sweat. 

"Where  I  loses  heaviest,  Cinnamon,  was  on 
them  boom-a-loom  boys  what  I  could  hired  out- 
at  a  franc  a  day,"  the  Wildcat  explained. 

[84] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Down  here  they  ain't  no  chance  to  rent  out 
field  ban's." 

But  the  groups  of  French  furlong  niggers 
persistently  hung  around  the  barracks  of  the 
Fust  Service  Battalion  near  the  docks.  Pay 
day  came  with  its  temporary  gain  and  the 
Wildcat  circulated  among  his  fellow  scientists 
for  a  space  of  ten  minutes,  rolling  the  while,  a 
pair  of  Jonah  dice.  The  Special  Representer, 
undergoing  h:s  sophomore  course,  relieved  the 
Wildcat  of  his  last  franc.  "Easy  come,  easy 
go.  Whut  I  don't  see  is  how  come  yo'  always 
wins,  Honey  Tone." 

"Beginner's  luck,  Wildcat."  Honey  Tone 
made  five  successive  passes. 

"I'se  seed  'em  killed  f  r  less " 

"Rub  me  back  of  the  ears!  They's  wild 
blood  in  my  veins." 

Honey  Tone,  the  tyro,  began  to  talk  to  the 
dice.  "Shoots  a  hundred.  .  .  .  Wedge-shaped 
babies,  wedge  'em  loose.  Five  an'  three  is  eight. 
.  .  .  I'se  an  eighter  f 'm  Decatur.  Fo'  an'  fo' 
is  eight.  Shoots  two  hundred — mawnin'  seven ! 
I  fills  poorhouses  wid  my  luck " 

The  Wildcat,  a  busted  bystander,  turned 
away  from  the  scene  of  the  slaughter  with  a 

[85] 


THE  WILDCAT 


grunt.  "Dis  yere  Special  Representer  sho'  is 
de  sudden  learninest,  fast  findin'-outest,  pass- 
flingin'  nigger  I  eveh  seed."  He  sought  his 
friend  Cinnamon  and  reviewed  a  scene  or  two 
of  the  Special  Represented  private  play. 

"  Tears  like  'at  nigger  got  deprived  loose  of 
his  ignorance  mighty  sudden,"  Cinnamon  vol 
unteered. 

"Mebbe  he's  been— representin'."  The  Wild 
cat  hesitated  in  voicing  his  indictment. 

"Mebbe." 

That  night  at  taps  an  informal  financial  cen 
sus  indicated  that  the  Special  Representer  was 
in  possession  of  half  the  payroll  that  the  Fust 
Service  Battalion  had  received.  Cinnamon  lis 
tened  to  the  various  reports  and  whispered  a 
final  summary  to  the  Wildcat.  "Honey  Tone 
win  ten  thousand  francs — mebbe  mo'." 


At  the  Bassens  Docks  across  the  river  from 
Bordeaux  the  cargo  ships  from  overseas  dis 
charged  their  various  stuffs  of  war  under  the 
urge  of  the  Wildcat  and  his  fellows.  Watch 
ing  the  dock  crews  at  their  work,  day  and  night, 
[86] 


THE  WILDCAT 


there  lingered  groups  of  spectators,  American, 
English,  French,  Chinese,  Anamites  and  Afri 
cans.  Of  this  last  group  part  were  the  boom- 
a-loom  warriors  of  the  Congo  who  had  fol 
lowed  the  Wildcat  to  St.  Sulpice  in  response 
to  his  lure  of  government  grub  and  tobacco. 
And  presently  for  young  lang  syne,  nicotine, 
calories,  curiosity  or  lack  of  something  else  to 
do,  the  tribal  brothers  of  Pala  Dikoa  and  Li- 
benga  Zongo  mingled  with  the  Wildcat's  crews 
along  the  route  of  the  discharging  cargo  from 
the  depths  of  the  ship's  holds  to  the  loading 
tracks  on  the  landward  side  of  the  warehouses 
on  the  docks.  "Food  and  tobacco  for  a  little 
work,"  reasoned  the  boom-a-loom  group.  "Ex 
tra  han's  so  us  boys  kin  lay  roun'  in  ol'  boat's 
cellar  an'  sleep  some — sho'  does  help,"  the 
Wildcat  figgered. 

And  the  cold  figures  that  reached  the  desk  of 
the  general  commanding  Base  Section  No.  2, 
A.  E.  F.,  showed  that  the  Fust  Service  Bat 
talion  was  unloading  more  tons  of  cargo  per 
man  than  any  other  organization  so  employed 
in  that  contest  which  had  been  termed  the 
"Race  to  Berlin."  For  the  moment  the  Race 

[87] 


THE  WILDCAT 


to  Berlin  was  the  African  race  and  the  Wild 
cat's  crew  was  setting  the  pace. 

Then  very  suddenly  Lady  Luck  smiled  at  the 
Wildcat.  "Get  me  some  furlong  nigger's  clo'es 
f 'r  a  day,  Wildcat,  an'  yo'  gits  five  francs  f 'm 
me."  A  blue-pass  member  of  the  Wildcat's 
crew,  Bordeaux  bound  for  a  day's  projectin' 
roun',  aimed  to  camouflage  hisself  so  as  not.  to 
excite  the  malignant  eyes  of  any  club-swing 
ing  M.  P.  who  might  stand  between  a  thirty- 
day  thirst  and  the  relievin'  ruckus  juice. 

"Whah  at  is  de  five  francs?"  the  Wildcat 
questioned. 

The  five  francs  changed  hands  and  the  Bor 
deaux  bound  boy  of  the  Fust  Service  Battalion 
changed  uniforms  with  Bonga  Taro.  Follow 
ing  the  success  of  the  tourists  day  in  Bordeaux 
there  resulted  a  steady  exchange  in  disguises. 
The  Wildcat  profited  heavily  in  his  traffic  in 
costumes  and  counted  an  increasing  sheaf  of 
five  franc  bills.  Presently  he  touched  the  mark 
that  made  the  payment  for  his  two  tailored  uni 
forms  a  triflin'  matter  of  a  trip  to  the  tailor's 
shop  across  the  river  in  Bo'deaux. 


[88] 


CHAPTER  VIII 


On  Saturday  afternoon  with  less  than  a 
thousand  tons  of  freight  remaining  in  the  hold 
of  the  steamship  "Princess  Clan"  the  Wildcat 
asked  for  and  received  a  pass  for  Sunday  in 
Bordeaux.  He  rounded  up  his  colleague  in 
crime,  Cinnamon,  and  dispatched  that  priv 
ileged  individual  to  the  tailor  shop  for  the  wait 
ing  uniforms.  By  six  o'clock  the  boy  returned 
and  half  an  hour  later  the  Wildcat  stepped  out 
of  his  barrack  arrayed  in  the  trim  perfection 
that  comes  with  pride  and  proud  raiment. 

Then  his  captain  sent  for  him.  The  Wildcat 
walked  toward  the  Company  Headquarters, 
feeling  somehow  that  his  luck  had  flopped 
again.  Apprehensive  of  some  new  deal  from 
misfortune's  stacked  deck,  he  confronted  his 
captain.  With  the  captain  was  a  serious  look 
ing  officer.  "How  come  dis  tin  chicken  colonel 
pesterin'  roun'!"  the  Wildcat  wondered.  At 
attention  he  saluted:  "Sir,  Sergeant  Vitus 
Marsden  repo'ts  to  Cap'n." 

[89] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Captain  regarded  him  gravely.  The  tin 
chicken  colonel  addressed  the  Wildcat.  "Ser 
geant,  for  excellence  in  execution  of  duty  and 
for  the  general  efficiency  which  you  and  your 
associates  have  displayed  the  inspectors  have 
confined  their  compliments  to  your  crew  and 
yourself,  and  have  awarded  you  one  thousand 
francs  from  the  prize  fund  and  ten  days'  ex 
emption  from  duty  beginning  September  first. 
That's  all." 

The  Wildcat  saluted  and  left.  His  head 
whirled  with  the  severity  of  his  sentence. 
"Execution — inspectors — thousand  francs — 
ten  days."  He  had  known  other  court-martial 
business  and  the  incidental  tribulation  which 
had  inevitably  followed  departure  from  the 
straight  and  narrow  path  of  military  virtue. 

Presently  the  stress  of  his  guilt  resolved  it 
self  into  action.  He  sought  the  Special  Repre- 
senter.  "Honey  Tone — come  out  an'  cheer  up 
us  boys  downstairs  in  de  ship's  cellar.  Us  needs 
it." 

Honey  Tone  accompanied  the  Wildcat  to  the 
ship. 

,The  pair  descended  into  the  depths  of  the 

[90] 


THE  WILDCAT 


forward  cargo  hold  in  which  a  gang  of  a  hun 
dred  men  were  at  work. 

The  Wildcat  turned  to  Honey  Tone.  "Cheer 
up  dis  outfit  whilst  I  rounds  up  de  detail  what 
relieves  'em.  I'se  goin'  away  f 'r  a  few  minnits, 
an'  when  I  gets  back  us'll  take  a  r'ar  at  de  cube 
game."  He  disappeared  up  the  ladder  into  the 
darkness  which  framed  the  hatch  combing. 
Once  on  deck  he  made  his  way  ashore  to  the 
barracks  of  his  company.  Silently,  for  it  was 
after  taps,  he  sought  the  bunk  of  the  Back 
slid  Baptis'.  He  quietly  awakened  that  indi 
vidual. 

"Come  outside,"  he  whispered.  The  pair 
stood  for  a  moment  outside  the  door  of  the 
barracks.  "Backslid,"  the  Wildcat  said, 
"gimme  dem  miss-out  dice  f'r  half  an  hour.  I 
jes'  meet  a  rich  boy  on  a  boat  an'  I  aims  fo'  a 
cleanin'.  You  gits  half  whut  I  makes."  The 
Backslid  one  fished  a  pair  of  dice  from  his  left 
sock  and  passed  them  over. 


ii 

^ 

THe  Wildcat  started  toward  the  ship.    Un 
der  the  arc  lights  that  lined  the  warehouse 


THE  WILDCAT 


tracks  on  the  dock  he  paused  to  issue  an  order 
to  a  black  boy  whose  only  business  up  to  that 
moment  seemed  to  have  been  that  of  leaning 
against  a  warehouse.  "Lizard,  to-night  all  us 
boys  on  ol'  boat  lays  off  to  rest  up.  Round  up 
all  de  boom-a-loom  niggers  an'  bring  'em  to 
me.  Til  be  waitin'  in  de  cellar  do'  of  de  boat 
— at  de  front  end.  After  you  an'  de  boom-a- 
looms  comes  you  sticks  close  to  me.  Mebbe 
us'll  go  to  Bo'deaux  after  midnight."  Lizard 
faded  into  the  darkness. 

The  Wildcat  sought  the  waiting  Special  Rep- 
resenter  in  the  hold  of  the  ship.  "Midnight 
gang  comes  on  soon,  Honey  Tone, — le's  you 
an'  me  have  a  r'ar  at  de  cubes  whilst  we's  wait- 
in'.  Shoots  ten  francs." 

The  Wildcat's  luck  seemed  to  have  suddenly 
changed.  By  the  time  the  boom-a-loom  gang 
arrived  he  had  accumulated  a  substantial  frac 
tion  of  the  Special  Representer's  roll.  Pres 
ently,  as  the  last  few  tons  of  cargo  were  being^ 
shifted  to  position  under  the  slings  that  swung 
from  the  cranes  above  the  ship  the  Wildcat 
made  a  final  pass.  "Nach-ral.  .  .  .  Whuf ! — 
an'  dat  cleans  you!  Honey  Tone,  luck  sho'  is 
crazy,  some  nights.  Wait  here  'til  me  an'  Liz- 

[92] 


THE  WILDCAT 


ard  gets  back,  an'  us'll  'sorb  a  few  drams  o' 
ruckus  juice.  Lizard  knows  where  at  to  get  it 
late  at  night.  You  needs  revivin'." 

The  Special  Representer,  having  seen  the 
last  of  his  francs  melt  away  under  the  heat  of 
Backslid's  dice,  sat  inert, — overcome  with  the 
suddenness  of  his  financial  finish. 

The  Wildcat  and  Lizard  climbed  out  of  the 
forward  hold  as  the  last  slingload  of  cargo 
went  aloft  into  the  darkness.  At  the  first 
hatch  on  Number  Three  deck,  ten  feet  below 
the  waterline,  the  pair  paused  for  a  few  mo 
ments.  Under  the  Wildcat's  direction  they 
heaved  at  the  hatch  covers  and  presently  Honey 
Tone  and  the  hundred  boom-a-loom  niggers 
were  securely  confined  under  the  steel  and  oak 
of  the  hatch  covers  and  their  battens. 

"They  gits  out  th'oo  a  bulkhead  do',  Lizard. 
When  yo'  finishes  anythin'  finish  complete," 
the  Wildcat  advised.  That  there  was  no  means 
of  exit  through  a  bulkhead  door  he  did  not  feel 
constrained  to  explain  to  the  passive  and  in 
curious  Lizard. 

On  deck,  the  Wildcat  sought  the  watch  officer 
of  the  "Princess  Clan."  "Cap'n,"  he  said,  "all 
de  freight's  h'isted  outen  de  front  end  an5  ev'- 

[93] 


THE  WILDCAT 


thing's  policed  up  neat  an'  clean."  With  the 
Lizard  at  his  heels  he  went  ashore.  "  Trincess 
Clan/  "  he  muttered  as  he  went  over  the  side, 
"  Trincess  Clan/  on  yo'  way  an'  good  luck, 
Lady."  He  and  the  Lizard  walked  softly  in 
the  direction  of  their  barracks.  The  Wildcat 
yawned  once  or  twice,  widely.  The  Lizard 
yawned  twice  as  wide.  "Boy,"  the  Wildcat 
said,  "us  is  plum  tired — Bo'deaux  to-morr', 
mebbe — but  not  to-night."  The  Lizard  went  to 
bed. 

The  Wildcat  softly  awakened  the  Backslid 
Baptis'  for  the  second  time  that  night.  "Here's 
de  baby  gallopers,"  he  said  as  he  returned  the 
miss-out  dice  to  the  Backslid  one,  "an'  here's 
yo'  half  de  money."  True  to  his  word  the 
Wildcat  handed  over  a  great  ball  of  banknotes. 
"Dey  sho'  is  rollin'  high  f'r  me  an'  Lady  Luck. 
Backslid,  I  bids  yo'  good-night." 

in 

About  the  time  the  Wildcat  started  toward 
Bordeaux,  away  from  the  inspectors  and  the 
ten  days  and  the  execution  that  the  tin  chicken 
colonel  had  mentioned,  the  "Princess  Clan"  let 

[94] 


THE  WILDCAT 


go  her  lines  and  cleared  on  the  tide  down  river 
for  Paulliac,  the  Lannick  Ocean  and  a  home 
port  in  the  U.  S.  A. 

In  her  forward  hold  Honey  Tone  and  the 
hundred  boom-a-looms  were  seeing  things  in 
the  dark  and  milling  strong. 


IV 

The  Wildcat's  fear  grew  as  he  walked  to 
ward  the  freedom  of  Bordeaux.  He  perspired 
with  relief  as  the  sentry  at  the  stone  bridge 
read  his  pass  and  waved  him  a  clearance,  but 
this  relief  endured  only  for  the  moment.  Be 
fore  he  had  been  in  the  town  half  an  hour  his 
cumulative  unreasoning  fear  had  inspired  a 
wild  desire  to  move  along. 

"Ah  got  money — money,  me  an'  yo'  travels 
'til  both  of  us  gits  wore  out." 

The  rumble  of  a  passing  truck  leaving  the 
Alices  de  Tourny  attracted  him.  He  swung 
aboard  and  when  the  driver  put  over  a  verbal 
barrage  he  countered  with  a  fifty  franc  note. 
"Ah's  got  to  repo't  befo'  mawnin','5  he  ex^ 
plained. 

"Where  at?"  the  driver  questioned. 

[95] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Wha'you's  headed  fo'?" 

"Paulliac." 

"Dat's  de  town." 

Into  the  darkness,  along  the  Paulliac  road 
the  Wildcat  traveled  on  his  rumbling  way, 
while  farther  to  the  East  the  "Princess  Clan" 
threaded  the  channel  of  the  Gironde. 

At  Paulliac  the  Wildcat  established  himself 
with  the  guard  at  the  naval  station.  The  mast 
head  lights  of  a  ship  laying  at  the  dock  showed 
above  the  blanket  of  fog  which  lay  upon  the 
land. 

"Where  at  is  dat  ship  headed  f o'  ?"  the  Wild 
cat  questioned. 

"Soon  as  she  gets  her  fresh  water  tanks  filled 
she  clears  for  New  Orleans,"  the  guard  re 
plied. 

New  Orleans — the  Mississip' !  Sunshine  and 
the  scenes  of  the  fair  untroubled  days  before 
the  pestering  war  had  broken  in  upon  the  tran 
quil  course  of  a  boy's  life !  The  Wildcat  read 
his  immediate  future.  "Boy — le's  go!"  He 
counted  out  a  deck  of  banknotes  and  held  them 
ready  as  he  climbed  over  the  side  of  the  ship. 
The  watch  hailed  him  .  .  .  but  presently  he 
was  lying  snugly  in  the  lee  of  a  winch  on  the 

[96] 


THE  WILDCAT 


forward  deck,  under  a  paulin  which  was  to  stay 
in  place  until  the  hoisting  gear  would  function 
again  in  the  distant  homeland  port. 

At  dawn  the  ship  cleared  and  steamed 
against  the  incoming  tide  toward  the  open  sea. 
The  Wildcat,  free  and  confident,  poked  his  head 
from  under  cover  and  looked  around.  Sud 
denly  he  extended  his  neck  full  length  like  a 
hardshell  turtle.  On  the  bridge  of  the  ship 
there  stood  an  officer  whom  he  knew — an  offi 
cer  of  the  "Princess  Clan." 

He  crawled  out  of  his  retreat  and  spoke  to  a 
sailor.  "Boy,"  he  asked,  "whut's  dis  boat's 
name?" 

The  sailor  looked  at  him  queerly  for  a  mo 
ment.  "You  ought  to  know, — you  been  work- 
in'  on  her  two  weeks  at  the  Bassens  Dock. 
She's  still  the  'Princess  Clan/  " 

A  mile  downstream  the  Wildcat  eased  over 
the  side  and  down  a  trailing  line.  He  dragged 
in  the  rush  of  water  for  a  minute  and  let  go. 
He  swam  for  the  shore  half  a  mile  away  and 
dragged  himself  into  the  willows  that  lined  the 
bank.  For  an  hour  he  lay  in  the  sun  drying  his 
clothes  and  figgerin'  how  come  Lady  Luck  to 
fool  a  boy  so  much.  "When  oF  Honey  Tone 

[97] 


THE  WILDCAT 


an'  them  boom-a-looms  is  let  out — did  they  find 
me  I'd  sho'  be  landed  on  de  blood  hook." 

Pretty  soon  he  started  toward  a  farmhouse 
a  mile  away.  "Git  me  some  eggs  an'  bread 
an'  a  rar  of  ol'  Van  Blank." 

At  the  house  he  landed  square  in  the  clutch 
of  a  roving  M.  P.  whose  special  duty  was  the 
rounding  up  of  ramblers. 

"That  pass  says  Bordeaux.  Beat  it  that  way 
and  beat  it  quick.  .There's  a  truck  leaving  in 
ten  minutes  from  the  Naval  Station  and  I'll  see 
you  on  board  of  that, — or  in  the  guardhouse. 
I'd  ought  to  kill  you  now,  but  the  war  needs 
you." 

Before  noon,  in  the  brilliant  sunlight  of  an 
active  Sunday  the  Wildcat  was  back  in  Bor 
deaux.  The  truck  stopped  in  front  of  the 
Bordeaux  Cafe  to  permit  a  couple  of  thirsty 
officers  to  descend.  The  Wildcat  figured  that 
he  would  better  unload  at  this  point  than  at 
the  more  thickly  populated  area  around  the 
Tourny  "Y." 

As  he  climbed  down  from  the  truck  a  voice 
nailed  him  in  his  coffin.  "Wildcat,  come 
here!"  From  in  front  of  the  Cafe  Bordeaux 

[98] 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  Wildcat's  captain  summoned  the  wanderer. 

"Cap'n,  yessuh!" 

"Bring  that  package  and  follow  me/'  the 
Captain  ordered.  "We're  going  back  to 
camp." 

The  captured  Wildcat  dragged  along  at  his 
captain's  heels  to  their  camp  across  the  river. 

"Cap'n,  when  does  they  lock  me  up?" 

"I'm  going  to  preach  at  your  grave  after 
they  shoot  you."  The  Captain  spoke  seriously 
but  not  with  sincerity.  Nevertheless  the  ver 
dict  fitted  the  Wildcat's  mottled  conscience  so 
exactly  that  its  effect  was  marked  by  violence. 
By  the  time  the  pair  reached  camp  the  Wild 
cat  was  mentally  shipping  his  own  remains 
C.  O.  D.  to  his  next  of  kin. 

"Bring  that  package  into  the  office,"  the  Cap 
tain  directed.  The  Wildcat  followed  into  the 
orderly  room  of  the  company.  The  Captain 
seated  himself  at  his  desk  and  reached  for  a 
letter  that  lay  upon  it.  Pinned  to  the  letter 
was  a  narrower  slip  of  pink  paper. 

"Papeh  had  words  wrote  on  it,"  the  Wildcat 
later  explained  to  Cinnamon.  "O1J  Cap'n  says, 
' Wilecat,  you  boys  beat  de  res'  unloadin'  freight 
off  de  "Princess  Clan"  in  dis  Race  to  Berlin. 

l99l 


THE  WILDCAT 


Yo'  gits  a  thousand  francs  anj  ten  days'  va 
cation  f  'm  de  commandin'  gin'ral.'  " 

"Then  whut  yo'  say,  Wilecat?" 

"I  sez,  'Cap'n,  yessuh.'  " 

"Boy — hot  damn !  Lady  Luck  sho'  is  smilin' 
dis  mawnin'." 

The  Wildcat's  face  was  suddenly  quiet. 

"Whut  yo'  thinkin'  ?"  Cinnamon  asked. 

"Me?  The  Wildcat  hesitated.  "I  was  pon- 
derin'  'bout  ol'  Honey  Tone.  Wondeh  how 
much  upliftin'  kin  he  do  wid  dem  boom-a-loom 
niggers  'twixt  heah  an'  N'O'leans.  .  .  .  Lady 
Luck— at  yo'  feet !" 


[IOOJ 


CHAPTER  IX 


"Phoebe  wuz  a  feeble  baby  bee, 

Phoebe  maybe  sting  you 
Like  she  done  stung  me." 

An  emergency  call  for  more  tracks  in  the 
St.  Sulpice  terminals  resulted  in  a  sudden  de 
mand  for  the  brunet  track-building  experts  of 
the  Fust  Service  Battalion.  The  Wildcat  and 
his  associates  were  presently  back  in  their  old 
camp  and  glad  to  be  free  of  the  arduous  loaf 
ing  business  in  the  cellars  of  ships  at  the  Bas- 
sens  Docks. 

"How  come  you  niggers  can't  keep  step  past 
de  office  when  Cap'n  looks  out  de  do'?"  The 
Wildcat  preached  at  his  gang  on  the  way  to 
work  in  the  railroad  yards. 

"When  I  columns  you  lef ',  you  heads  fo'  de 
work  an'  not  to'a'ds  de  kitchen.  Column — 
lef!  Lef,  I  says!  Lef!  Head  dat  squad 
roun',  co'p'al !  Follow  dat  mascot !" 

[The  Wildcat's  platoon  scattered  to  the  four 
winds  of  France.  "Rally  roun'  Lily — rally 
roun'  dat  mascot  goat !" 

[101] 


THE  WILDCAT 


After  five  minutes'  work  the  Wildcat  accu 
mulated  his  platoon  and  headed  them  towards 
the  scene  of  the  day's  work.  "Wuz  sweat 
worth  a  nickel  a  quart,  today  you  niggers 
makes  fo'  bits  apiece.  Ah  neveh  seed  such  a 
slew-foot  triflin'  outfit.  Follow  dat  mascot — 
dat's  all  I  tells  your 

"Sergeant,  I'se  lame.  Kin  I  route  step 
some?" 

"Lemme  see  yo'  laig — is  you  lyin'  Ah'll  lame 
you!" 

"Kaint  see  is  I — iodine  whut  de  doctor  paints 
me  wif  don't  show.  I  tells  yo'  I'se  same  as  a 
cripple.'' 

"  'Ceptin'  in  de  appetite.  Ah  seed  you  at 
brekfus' — wuz  po'k  chops  swellin'  you  couldn't 
git  into  a  box  car." 

The  marching  platoon  passed  a  detail  of  Ger 
man  prisoners  carrying  railroad  ties.  "Rustle 
dem  ties  white  boys!"  the  Wildcat  called. 
"How  is  us  gwine  to  win  dis  wah  if  you-all 
don't  he'p  us?" 

"Phoebe  wuz  a  fliah, 
Come  f  'm  Ten-o-see. 
Phoebe  lit  a  fiah 
Where  she  lit  on  me." 
[102] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Wisht  I  wuz  in  Ten-o-see  'stid  of  in  dis 
wah !  Wisht  I  wuz  in  heaven." 

"Only  way  you'll  git  to  heaven  is  wuz  heaven 
a  jail  an'  some  white  man  knowed  you  like  I 
does." 

"Neveh  seed  such  a  lastin'  job — wondeh 
when  de  end  of  de  wah'll  be,  Wildcat?" 

"Front  end  done  been — hind  end'll  coma 
when  ol'  Republicans  starts  winnin'." 

"Some  Democrats  is  all  right — Cap'n's  a 
Democrat." 

"How  come  you-all  knows  so  much  'bout 
Cap'n?" 

"I  knows.  I  seed  him  walk  home  f'm  de 
banquet  'thout  no  he'p — rest  o'  de  officers  had 
to  be  carried.  Lootenant's  a  Republican — 
had  to  wateh  him  an'  bed  him  down  like  a 
mule.  Cap'n  sho'  is  Democrat — he's  outdrunk 
ev'y  officeh  what  showed  up  so  fah." 

"Cap'n  sho'  kin  ca'y  his  gin  ration — sho'  kin 
ca'y  a  load." 

"I'll  say  he  kin— he  may  be  old  but  he's  got 
kid  gloves." 

"Detail  .  .  .  'tenshun!  Detail  .  .  .  halt! 
Scatteh  out  an'  see  kin  yo'  earn  yo'  rations. 

[103] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Tie  dat  mascot  in  de  vineyard  an'  leave  him 
eat  grapevines." 

"Betteh  tie  him  to  de  track  an'  see  kin  a 
train  kill  him.  He  et  two  pairs  of  shoes  an' 
de  linin'  out  of  a  ovehcoat  yistiddy.  Neveh 
seed  such  a  goat  f  'r  raiment  lunch.  Wuz  he  at 
tached  to  olj  supply  sahgent  f  r  rations  he'd 
figgeh  he'd  landed  in  heaven !" 

The  platoon  strung  out  along  the  track  and 
languidly  began  the  day's  work. 

The  Wildcat  figgered  a  little  rest  would 
help  him  some.  He  called  to  a  waterboy. 
"Roust  me  out  afteh  I'se  laid  a  couple  hours." 
He  coiled  himself  up  in  the  shade  of  a  pile  of 
lumber  and  was  asleep  before  his  head  hit  the 
ground. 

No  sooner  was  the  Wildcat  asleep  than  sev 
eral  members  of  his  crew  gravitated  about  a 
push  car  which  stood  beside  the  track.  In  the 
group  were  Cube  and  the  Backslid  Baptis', 
DeWitt  Massey,  The  Lizard,  Moon  Eye,  and 
half  a  dozen  more  domino  gallopers. 

"Shoots  a  franc,"  the  Backslid  one  an 
nounced. 

"Lemme  see  de  dice — I  knows  you,  Baptis'." 

"Seven  .  .  .  li'l  lady  love  .  .  .  Whoof!" 
[104] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  moved  uneasily  in  his  sleep. 

"Ace  an'  a  dooce — loses  nuthin'  but  yo' 
money,  Moon  Eye.  Roll  'em!" 

The  Wildcat  sat  straight  up.  In  four  sec 
onds  he  had  elbowed  himself  into  action. 
"Gimme  dem  dice !  Gimme  dem  dice !  Shoots 
ten  francs  .  .  .  Whuf!  Five  an'  fo'  is  nine 
...  an'  a  six-tray.  Lay  dead.  Shoots  twenty 
.  .  .  fade  me  is  you  reckless  .  .  .  Mawnin' 
seven — I  lets  it  lay.  Shoots  forty  .  .  .  Lady 
Luck,  I  aims  to  run  yo'  ragged.  Fade  me 
field  han's,  fade  me!  Money,  rally  roun'! 
Wham !  .  .  .  two  top  sides  says  'leven !" 

"Ten-shun!" 

The  Captain,  fifty  feet  away,  gazed  calmly  at 
the  group. 

"Wildcat,  come  here!" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh !  Me  an'  dese  boys  wuz  jes' 
waitin'  fo' " 

"You  won't  have  long  to  wait  for  what's 
coming  to  you.  Come  back  to  camp  with  me. 
Rest  of  you  boys  get  to  work." 

The  Captain's  voice  was  singin'  low  like  a 
boiler  just  before  she  busts.  The  Wildcat  be 
gan  to  worry  about  himself.  "Cap'n,  suh,  whut 

is  it  whut's  cotnin'  to  me — I'se " 

[105] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Shut  up  before  I  knock  you  loose  from  your 
ears!" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh!" 

Black  clouds  obscured  the  four  quadrants  of 
the  Wildcat's  horizon.  "Cap'n's  foamin'  agin. 
Lady  Luck,  whah  at  is  you  hid?" 

Followed  by  the  drooping  Wildcat,  the  Cap 
tain  entered  the  battalion  office  and  made  his 
way  to  a  smaller  room  partitioned  off  in  one 
corner  of  it. 

"Come  in  here!" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

Five  minutes  later  the  Wildcat  dragged  his 
remains  to  his  quarters  and  put  himself  to  bed. 
"Wuz  they  one  stick  o'  stovewood  wif  my 
name  wrote  on  it,  Cap'n  sho'  foun'  it." 

Cinnamon,  the  Captain's  striker,  a  brunet 
New  Orleans  boy,  drifted  in  with  his  guitar. 
"Wilecat,  you  likes  music — nex'  time  Cap'n 
gits  th'oo  'ith  you  I'll  play  at  yo'  funeral." 

"Boy,  snatch  me  Memphis  Blues.  Ol'  Cap'n 
ain't  hurt  me — 'ceptin'  I  bust  my  voice  yellin' 
so's  he'd  think  so." 


THE  WILDCAT 


II 

Having  accomplished  the  first  success  in  a 
series  of  battles  with  the  triflin'  Wildcat,  the 
Captain  proceeded  to  frame  an  elaborate  se 
ries  of  charges  which  his  clerk  incorporated  in 
a  court-martial.  "What  date  do  you  wish  to 
have  him  up?"  the  clerk  asked. 

"Right  now — this  minute — as  soon  as  I  can 
sign  my  name.  I'll  break  that  nigger  of  shoot- 
in'  craps  in  public  or  kill  him.  Send  an  orderly 
after  him,  and  we'll  have  his  trial  now." 

Cinnamon,  who  had  drifted  to  the  office,  was 
dispatched  after  the  Wildcat.  "Cap'n  says 
burn  yo'  shoe.  He's  waitin'  fo'  you  in  his 
office." 

"Hope  he  ain't  foun'  no  more  stovewood — 
neveh  seed  such  a  heavy  club." 

Cinnamon  laughed  derisively.  "I  bet  we 
gits  a  holiday  to-morr' — an'  a  band  an'  march- 
in'  an' " 

"How  come?" 

"Funeral  p'cession,  Wildcat — us  marches 
slow  an'  you  leads." 

"Boy,  you  makes  me  sick."  The  Wildcat 
started  for  his  doom. 

[1073 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Fo'  long  you  gits  some  flowehs  readin' 
'Rest  from  now  on/  " 

The  court-martial  was  fast  business. 
"Guardhouse  for  three  months,  forfeits  three 
months'  pay,  reduced  from  grade  of  sergeant 
to  private,  effective  to-day." 

The  Wildcat  dragged  himself  over  to  report 
to  the  Sergeant  of  the  Guard.  "Cap'n  sho' 
learned  to  speak  his  piece  by  heart." 

The  Wildcat,  languishing  in  the  guardhouse, 
rapidly  established  himself  in  the  mixed  com 
pany  therein.  Before  he  had  been  within  its 
walls  an  hour  he  had  become  the  financial  cen 
ter  of  his  little  world.  Prisoners  are  not  sup 
posed  to  have  money  with  them  but  under  the 
surface  discipline  the  army  is  an  informal  ag 
gregate  of  fractured  rules  and  busted  regula 
tions,  known  and  overlooked  by  the  governmen- 
talities  who  wear  the  stars  and  varnished  boots 
of  rank. 

Pretty  soon  the  Wildcat  became  a  medium 
good  languisher.  The  guardhouse  was  humid 
and  warm  and  except  for  three  or  four  hours' 
work  around  camp  each  day  the  prisoners  had 
nothing  to  do  but  eat  and  sleep  and  gamble. 
[108] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Cinnamon,  observing  this,  came  to  envy  his 
associate. 

"Cap'n  has  me  draggin'  roun'  f  'm  sun-up  to 
when  de  owls  hoot/'  he  complained.  "Wisht 
I  could  git  me  th'ee  months  in  jail  whah  at  ol' 
Wilecat  is." 

He  analyzed  the  process  by  means  of  which 
the  Wildcat  had  accomplished  his  nominal  pun 
ishment.  "Me — I'se  neveh  knowed  Lady  Luck 
to  fail  me,"  he  announced  blandly  one  evening 
after  supper.  "Gimme  dem  dice.  "Cm  out 
heah  whah  I  kin  roll  'em  wild."  He  selected 
an  area  of  high  visibility  in  front  of  the  bar 
racks  and  talked  loud.  "Shoots  five 
francs.  .  .  ." 

The  Cap'n  responded  under  forced  draft. 
He  suddenly  appeared  in  front  of  Cinnamon. 
"Boy,"  he  said  to  his  striker,  "at  nine  o'clock 
to-night  maybe  I'll  kill  you.  Report  over  to 
the  guardhouse  under  arrest." 

The  thankful  Cinnamon  picked  up  his  five 
francs.  "Cap'n,  yessuh,"  he  said.  He  walked 
rapidly  to  the  sentry  outside  of  the  guardhouse. 
"Cap'n  of  us  boys  Fust  Service  Battalion  or- 
dehs  me  repo't  heah  under  arrest." 

"Corporal  th'  guard!"  the  sentry  bawled. 

[109] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Git  inside,  boy,  before  I  shove  this  gun 
through  you." 

"How  come  you  heah?"  the  Wildcat  asked 
in  greeting. 

"Me — Wilecat,  I  has  me  a  drag  avec  ol'  Lady 
Luck,  ness  pa!" 

"Us  sho'  is  rollin'  strong,  Cin'mun!  Me — I 
stays  heah  goin'  on  'leven  weeks  mo'.  OF  wah 
ain't  so  bad  dis  way.  Wisht  I  could  stay  heah 
f  m  now  on.  Us  kin " 

"Virus  Marsden!"  The  Wildcat  heard  his 
name  called  by  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  who 
stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  enclosure. 

"Dat's  me."  The  Wildcat  stepped  impor 
tantly  towards  the  source  of  the  summons. 

"Report  at  once  on  parole  for  duty  as  per 
sonal  orderly  for  the  Captain  of  the  First  Serv 
ice  Battalion." 

"Cinnamon,  doggone  you,  heah  you  is — an' 
I'se  persecuted  with  yo'  job  draggin'  roun' 
mawnin'  an'  night  fo'  ol'  Cap'n  Jack.  Lady 
Luck,  wuz  you  a  rabbit,  I'd  gallop  you  to 
death!" 


[110} 


CHAPTER  X 


The  A.  E.  F.  was  long,  theoretically,  on 
moral  and  physical  cleanliness.  On  Sunday 
evening  the  Wildcat  was  exposed  to  forty  min 
utes'  preaching,  under  orders. 

"Lootenant  preacheh  'spounded  'bout  a  boy 
he  called  Mis'  P'odigal's  son,"  he  later  ex 
plained  to  Cinnamon.  "Sho'  wuz  plum  dead 
f'm  his  collar  o'naments  up.  Boy  et  shucks 
an'  fed  all  de  cawn  to  some  hawgs.  Me — I'd 
et  me  a  cawn  pone  an'  could  I  get  me  a  Barlow, 
I'd  butcher  me  a  hawg  and  have  me  some  po'k 
chops  an'  side  meat  an'  ham  an'  spah  ribs  an* 
gravy  an'  chittlin's  an'  mebbe  some  mo'  ham 
— Wondeh  what  time  dinneh'll  be  ready." 

"Mebbe  them  hawgs  wuz  penned  up  neah  a 
house — an'  watched  close.  Ol'  constable  calls  it 
stealin'  is  you  ketched." 

"Ain't  been  yit — an'  I  craves  not  to  be. 
Hawgs  don't  care  who  owns  'em — killin'  day 
boun'  to  ketch  'em  anyhow,  come  Thanksgiv- 
in'  time." 

[in] 


THE  WILDCAT 


A  messenger  interrupted  the  conversation. 
"Wilecat,  Cap'n  says  whah  in  hell  is  you." 

The  Wildcat  adapted  his  pace  to  the  tenor  of 
the  summons. 

"Cap'n — whut  wuz  it,  suh?  I  wuz  hangin' 
yo'  light  unifohm  on  de  line  an' " 

"Tell  Cinnamon  to  report  to  the  cook  for 
K.  P.  duty,"  the  Captain  said.  "Give  the  ser 
geant  at  the  guardhouse  this  paper." 

The  Wildcat  carried  the  glad  tidings.  "Yo' 
gits  f o'teen  hours  a  day  roun'  de  kitchen.  "I'se 
et  worse'n  I  has  lately,  but  I  depen's  heavy  on 
you,  Cinnamon — 'long  as  you  an'  me  is  frien's 
an'  you  is  he'pin'  in  de  kitchen.  Mos'  all  de 
time  Fse  hungry." 

"Boy,  we  eats  heavy,  ness  pa?" 

"Sho'  do — how  come  you  sez  'ness  pa'  all 
de  time?" 

"Ness  pa  is  French  fo'  sayin'  wuz  Lady 
Luck  a  bird,  us  has  a  handful  of  tail  feathers." 


ii 

In  Washington,  behind  an  elaborate  ma 
hogany  bulwark,  a  quartermaster  colonel  cal 
culated  an  intricate  soap  problem  affecting  the 

[112] 


THE  WILDCAT 


epidermis  of  several  million  men.  "Ultimate 
strength  of  three  million  in  the  Zone  of  Ad 
vance,  Watkins — put  down  three  million — 
multiplied  by  the  number  of  days  in  two  years. 
Say  three  million  by  seven  hundred.  What 
does  that  give  you?" 

"Twenty-one  hundred  million." 

"Very  good.  Say  they  use  an  ounce  of  soap 
a  day — more  than  that  up  there  where  the — ah 
— insects  are  thickest,  means  twenty-one  hun 
dred  million  ounces.  Get  out  a  requisition  cov 
ering  that  at  once.  Liquid  soap — twenty-one 
hundred  million  ounces  of  liquid  soap  to  be 
shipped  immediately  to  the  Commander-in- 
Chief,  A.  E.  F. — Hoboken  to  Bordeaux  for  dis 
tribution  from  the  St.  Sulpice  Storage  Depot." 

"Yessir."  Watkins  sought  his  own  refuge 
and  began  winding  the  red  tape  around  the 
soap.  He  discovered  that  the  liquid  soap  order 
amounted  to  over  sixty-five  thousand  tons  of 
material  without  considering  containers. 

"Ten  shiploads — sure  is  a  big  war." 

And  on  a  morning  when  everybody  from  the 
front  line  to  the  base  ports  in  France  went  hun 
gry  at  breakfast  time  because  the  subs  had 
sunk  a  dozen  shiploads  of  food,  the  first  four 


THE  WILDCAT 


cargoes  of  liquid  soap  sailed  from  an  Atlantic 
port  bound  for  somewhere  in  France  where 
the  cooties  grew  wild. 

An  order  issued  from  G.  H.  Q.  covering  the 
theory  that  cleanliness  is  next  to  loaning  money 
to  the  sentry  at  the  pearly  gates.  "Daily  bath, 
hell!"  commented  the  A.  E.  F.  "If  I  had 
water  enough  for  a  bath,  I'd  drink  it." 


in 

At  St.  Sulpice  open  storage  spaces  and  ware 
houses  rapidly  filled  with  steel  drums  full  of 
liquid  soap.  The  Fust  Service  Battalion,  de 
tailed  to  unload  the  trains  arriving  from  the 
docks  near  Bordeaux,  sweated  and  heaved  and 
grunted  day  after  day  at  its  endless  task. 
"How  come  so  much  soap?"  Moon  Eye  com 
plained.  "Neveh  seed  so  much  soap.  Wuz  it 
sorghum  sweetening  they  might  be  some  sense 
to  it.  Us  needs  soap  'bout  like  a  cootie  needs 
wings."  Moon  Eye  scratched  himself  and 
swung  onto  another  barrel  of  soap. 

Over  at  the  Captain's  quarters  the  Wildcat 
was  busy  straightening  up  the  site  of  a  poker 
battle  which  had  waged  throughout  the  night. 


THE  WILDCAT 


Close  in  his  wake  followed  the  goat,  Lily, 
nominally  mascot  of  the  Battalion,  but  in  real 
ity  the  personal  protege  of  the  Wildcat.  Lily, 
munching  contentedly  on  the  nine  of  clubs  and 
a  shredded  face  card,  gave  forth  a  plaintive 
bleat. 

"Shut  up — no  wondeh  your  insides  hurts. 
When  you  eats  th'ee  socks  an1  two  cigahs  an' 
half  a  deck  of  cyards  yo'  has  yo'  mis'ry  comin'. 
Leggo  'at  papeh !" 

The  Wildcat  finished  his  work  and  proceeded 
to  the  Battalion  office  adjoining  the  Captain's 
quarters.  The  room  was  untenanted  at  the 
moment,  and  while  the  Wildcat  swept  the  lit 
ter  which  lay  about,  into  the  dark  corners  of 
the  room  where  it  might  accumulate  unnoticed, 
Lily  grazed  here  and  there  at  will. 

"Neveh  seed  such  a  ol'  goat  f 'r  eatin'  cigahs. 
Lay  off  'at  long  one — I  aims  to  smoke  'at  cigah 
myse'f  afteh  me  an  Cinnamon  eats  us  a  li'l 
snack."  The  Wildcat  stowed  the  half  smoked 
cigar  in  the  left  pocket  of  his  shirt  and  made 
his  way  to  the  kitchen,  leaving  Lily  safely  con 
fined  behind  closed  doors.  "Stay  theh  an'  walk 
yo'  post  whilst  I  'cumulates  some  rations." 

Lily  walked  a  staggering  poo:  for  a  few  min- 

."Sl 


THE  WILDCAT 


utes  until  a  neatly  cultivated  garden  of  Service 
records  attracted  her  attention.  In  the  midst 
of  the  alphabet  she  found  a  menu  to  her  taste. 
She  browsed  lightly  on  the  documentary  evi 
dence  covering  the  military  biography  of 
Moon  Eye  and  the  Backslid  Baptist.  Of  Vitus 
Marsden,  the  Wildcat,  she  ate  all  but  the  two 
wire  staples  which  bound  his  folio.  She  gorged 
on  Cinnamon,  Lizard  and  young  Cube  Calvin. 
From  the  Captain's  desk  she  partook  of  a  cellu 
lose  dessert  consisting  of  the  courtmartial 
charge  sheets  of  the  Wildcat  and  Cinnamon, 
covering  the  crime  of  being  publicly  discovered 
shootin'  craps.  She  drank  lightly  of  crimson 
wine  from  an  inkwell  and  found  it  not  pleas 
ing  to  her  taste.  "Blaa  I" 

"Lily,  you  debbil,  come  off  dat  desk."  The 
Wildcat,  returning  to  the  office,  accumulated 
the  mascot.  "Wuz  cyclones  hawns  and  hair, 
you  is  six.  Ah'll  'Blaa'  you  wid  a  chair  in  a 
minnit." 

The  Wildcat  straightened  out  the  remain 
ing  disordered  documents  and  dragged  Lily  to 
an  area  back  of  the  Captain's  quarters.  "Roam 
heah  an'  see  kin  you  eat  ground." 

He  tied  the  mascot  securely  and  began  look- 
[116] 


THE  WILDCAT 


ing  over  the  Captain's  socks.  "See  kin  I  find 
ol'  socks  big  enough  to  fit  me.  Sho'  need  me 
some  socks  to-morr'  when  I  gits  Cap'n's  uni- 
fawm  in  Bordeaux  f 'm  'at  tailor  man." 


IV 

An  urgent  demand  for  gasoline  for  the  Mo 
tor  Transport  Corps  in  the  Zone  of  Advance 
sang  along  the  midnight  wires. 

"We  have  five  cargoes  of  gasoline,  but  have 
no  containers/'  answered  the  general  com 
manding  Base  Section  No.  2.  He  rang  for  his 
adjutant.  "Rush  this  wire  to  G.  H.  Q. — no 
containers  for  gasoline." 

The  adjutant,  an  exceptional  colonel  who 
was  not  all  bone  above  his  collar  ornaments, 
read  the  message  which  the  general  handed 
him. 

"Why  not  ship  some  gas  in  those  steel  drums 
that  the  damned  liquid  soap  came  "in?"  he  sug 
gested.  "The  carpenter  force  at  St.  Sulpice 
could  build  a  wood  tank  overnight  big  enough 
to  hold  two  or  three  shiploads  of  that  deleted 
soap — and  we  could  ship  the  gasoline  in  the 
empty  drums." 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Great  work!  Excellent  idea!"  the  general 
approved.  "Issue  orders  at  once.  That's  what 
I  call  efficiency.  Won't  forget  that.  Rush 
it." 

An  order  issued  twenty  minutes  later  over 
the  telephone  to  St.  Sulpice  to  construct  a  wood 
reservoir  five  hundred  feet  long,  two  hundred 
feet  wide  and  ten  feet  deep ;  and  to  empty  the 
drums  of  liquid  soap  into  this  reservoir. 
"Ship  empty  drums  to  gasoline  reserve  depot 
Sursol  Docks.  Rush." 

At  midnight  six  thousand  men  were  at  work 
on  the  huge  wood  tank  and  by  nine  o'clock  the 
next  day  it  was  half  filled  with  the  liquid  soap. 

The  spur  tracks  leading  to  the  great  tank 
near  the  river  were  filled  with  carloads  of 
empty  drums  bound  for  the  Gasoline  Reserve 
Depot. 

"Compliment  you  on  the  expedient,"  wired 
G.  H.  Q.  to  the  general  commanding  Base  2. 
The  general  forgot  that  the  idea  originated 
with  his  adjutant. 

Meanwhile  the  ponderous  tank  of  soap  grew 
warm  in  the  afternoon  sun  and  cooled  in  the 
frosts  of  evening. 

[118] 


THE  WILDCAT 


At  evening  the  Captain  of  the  Fust  Service 
Battalion  came  to  his  quarters.  The  Wildcat 
was  teaching  the  mascot  goat,  Lily,  not  to  eat 
shoes. 

"Boy,  build  me  a  fire  and  build  it  quick." 
The  Captain  was  cold. 

"Cap'n,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  began  tying 
a  complicated  twist  in  Lily's  picket  rope  which 
he  hoped  might  endure  until  his  return. 

The  Captain  began  opening  his  mail.  In 
the  first  envelope  was  a  bill  from  a  Bordeaux 
tailor.  In  the  second  was  a  request  from  a 
brother  officer  in  Paris  for  the  loan  of  twelve 
hundred  francs.  In  the  third  was  a  notifica 
tion  from  Washington  stating  that  the  Captain 
had  been  overpaid  seventy-three  dollars  on  his 
last  pay  voucher,  and  that  refund  must  be  made 
at  once. 

All  this  finance  bounced  back  and  hit  the 
Wildcat.  "Are  you  going  to  build  that  fire  be 
fore  I  kill  you  or  afterwards?"  The  Captain 
moved  easily  toward  the  Wildcat. 

Lily  and  the  confining  knot  were  suddenly 
abandoned.  "Cap'n,  they  ain't  no  chunk  wood 


THE  WILDCAT 


heah — nothin'  'ceptin'  kin'lins — Fse  gwine  fo' 
some  right  now." 

The  Wildcat  trotted  out  of  the  door,  one  eye 
open  for  firewood,  and  the  other  looking  into 
the  dismal  future  that  promised  to  be  his  unless 
the  Cap'n's  mood  changed  mighty  sudden. 
Under  a  carwheel,  over  the  spur  track  leading 
to  the  tank  of  liquid  soap,  the  Wildcat  saw  a 
nice  piece  of  two  by  four.  "Dry  wood — sho' 
burn  noble/7  He  kicked  the  two  by  four  from 
where  it  was  wedged  under  the  carwheel.  A 
car  length  ahead  he  saw  another  similar  block 
which  he  retrieved.  "Three  is  plenty  fo'  a 
start."  He  kicked  the  third  block  loose  and 
started  towards  the  office  with  it.  He  had 
gone  only  a  little  way  when  a  noise  behind  him 
attracted  his  attention.  He  turned  and  dis 
covered  that  the  string  of  cars  from  under 
which  he  had  removed  the  blocks,  was  in  mo 
tion.  "Sho'  kin  roll  easy  down  hill." 

He  looked  about  him.  "Mebbe  dese  heah 
blocks  wuz  all  de  brakes  oV  cars  had.  Mebbe 
I'se  instigated  a  ruckus.  Hope  nobody  seed 
me  an'  tells  Cap'n." 

The  Wildcat's  second  mebbe  suffered  a  rapid 
transition  into  reality.  Hornet  railroaders  be- 
[120] 


THE  WILDCAT 


gan  pouring  towards  the  racing  train.  Each 
man  ran  a  little  way  and  then  stood  gazing 
breathlessly  at  the  rattling  tornado  headed  for 
the  soap  tank  a  mile  down  hill.  .  .  . 

The  chill  rain  of  evening  began  to  fall  as 
the  Wildcat  lighted  the  Captain's  fire.  In  the 
Captain's  fifth  envelope  was  an  invitation  from 
the  artillery  gang  at  Souge  to  sit  in  the  follow 
ing  night  at  a  five  card  enterprise  where  a  gen 
tleman  bets  that  something  he  doesn't  hold  out 
ranks  the  hand  some  other  gentleman  is  in 
flicted  with. 

"Soon  as  you  get  that  fire  built,  head  for 
Bordeaux  on  the  six-twenty  and  get  my  new 
uniform  from  Mesuret's  tailor  shop  on  the  Rue 
Intendence.  Here's  your  pass." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  breathed 
heavy.  Here,  delivered  into  his  hands,  was  a 
quick  evasion  of  the  heavy  swinging  club  with 
which  Lady  Luck  was  about  to  caress  him. 

From  the  distance  there  came  the  echo  of  a 
terrific  crash.  For  five  seconds  there  followed 
a  heavy  sustained  roar.  The  Captain  sud 
denly  abandoned  his  correspondence.  "What 
the  hell  broke  loose?" 

"Speck    ol'    sergeant's    blowed    up    some 

[121] 


THE  WILDCAT 


stumps  mebbe.  Cap'n,  suh — mebbe  ol'  thundeh 

sto'm  bust — mebbe " 

The  Captain  had  joined  in  the  race  towards 
the  side  of  the  soap  tank  where  twelve  heavy 
freight  cars  had  plowed  through  a  fabric  of 
splintering  timber.  When  he  arrived  near  the 
scene  the  sloping  terrain  from  the  tank  to  the 
river  was  ten  feet  deep  in  a  dancing  foam 
created  by  the  impact  of  a  myriad  raindrops 
mingling  with  the  liquid  soap.  On  the  choppy 
surface  of  the  Gironde  there  presently  foamed 
enough  soapsuds  to  last  a  million  Mondays. 


[122] 


CHAPTER  XI 


At  evening  the  Wildcat  leading  the  mascot 
goat,  Lily,  entered  Bordeaux  via  the  stone 
bridge  that  spans  the  Gironde.  The  smothery 
soap-suds  blanket  was  rolling  up  the  river  and. 
spreading  into  the  city  streets. 

An  automobile  ran  into  a  great  bank  of  foam 
and  died.  The  driver  and  his  passenger  raced 
on  foot  from  out  of  the  menace  of  the  trans 
lucent  mass  of  bubbles. 

The  Wildcat,  observing  the  bubble  phe 
nomena,  headed  for  the  tailor  shop.  He 
paused  a  moment  to  absorb  a  few  slugs  of  cog 
nac.  The  goat,  Lily,  which  he  led  beside  him, 
gave  a  plaintive  bleat.  "Is  you  a  mascot,  you'd 
betteh  begin  workin'  at  it  heavy,  Lily.  Us 
needs  to  ketch  up  now  wif  Lady  Luck — else 
we'se  gwine  neveh  to  see  'at  woman  again." 

The  Wildcat  noticed  that  the  twinkling 
lights  that  lined  the  Intendence  revealed  a 
stream  of  humanity  headed  in  one  direction 
only — away  from  the  river. 


THE  WILDCAT 


At  the  door  of  the  tailor  shop  an  M.  P. 
hailed  the  Wildcat.  "Boy,  halt!  What  are 
you  doing  in  town  this  time  of  night?" 

The  Wildcat's  heart  got  up  on  a  trapeze  and 
tried  a  tail  spin.  Here  was  the  hand  of  the 
Law — a  heavy  hand  closely  followed  by  the 
Law's  foot  clad  in  the  new  and  heavy  march 
ing  shoe. 

"Me — nuthin'.  I  never  knowed  dat  ol'  rail 
road  train'd  run  away  'count  of  a  HI  stick  o' 
wood  bein' " 

The  M.  P.  decided  the  Wildcat  had  missed 
his  train.  "Old  stuff!  Can  th' bunk!  Lemme 
see  your  pass." 

The  Wildcat  explored  his  raiment  and  fin 
ally  produced  the  slip  of  paper  which  spelled 
temporary  freedom.  "I'se  gwine  back — me 
and  Lily,  soon  as  I  'cumulates  Cap'n's  uniform 
f'm  ol'  tailor  man  in  the  sto'  right  heah." 

"Beat  it  then — and  lay  off  the  coonyak." 
The  M.  P.  read  the  pass  and  gave  the  Wildcat 
a  little  parting  advice. 

The  Wildcat  entered  the  tailor  shop  five  min 
utes  before  closing  time.  A  hare-lipped  young 
clerk  struggling  with  a  .22  cal.  English  vocabu 
lary,  discovered  the  motive  of  the  Wildcat's 


THE  WILDCAT 


visit  and  returned  presently  with  a  bundle  in 
which  an  officer's  uniform  was  neatly  folded. 

"Eet  is  charged,  M'sieur  nagur.  Voila! 
'Revoir." 

The  Wildcat  plus  the  goat,  Lily,  entered 
into  the  night.  "Tell  us,  Wallow  in  de  riveh !' 
Never  seed  white  boys  sassy  like  dese  heah 
French  frogs  is." 

The  Wildcat  started  towards  the  river  on 
his  journey  home.  And  then,  quite  suddenly, 
he  and  Lily  reversed  their  line  of  march  and 
headed  up  the  street.  Approaching  them  in 
gentle  jumps  of  a  hundred  feet  was  a  wall  of 
soap  bubbles  fifty  feet  high.  "Neveh  seed  such 
heavy  drams  o'  coon-yak.  Us  sho'  is  had 
plenty,  an'  then  some.  Lily,  you  mascot,  see 
kin  yo'  laigs  rattle  a  gallop.  Git  out  o'  town. 
Le's  go!" 

At  the  distant  crescent  Avenue  which  lay 
about  the  city  the  Wildcat  paused  long  enough 
to  take  on  four  more  slugs  of  cognac.  The  pa 
per  covering  about  the  uniform,  soggy  in  the 
rain,  burst  when  it  lay  between  the  Wildcat's 
feet.  He  picked  it  up  and  started  out  of  the 
cafe  with  it.  Through  the  opening  in  the 
package,  the  brilliant  scarlet  of  French  cav- 


THE  WILDCAT 


airy  breeches  assaulted  the  Wildcat's  heavy 
eyes.  "Lily,  us  travels!  I'se  stahted  seein' 
red!  Sho'  is  a  bad  sign!" 

In  the  obscurity  of  the  great  trees  which 
fringed  the  boulevard  the  Wildcat  completed 
his  investigation  of  the  package.  "Eyes  tol' 
me  true.  Ol'  pants  sho'  is  red.  Dese  is  clo'es 
like  French  Cap'ns  weahs." 

From  down  the  street  there  came  the  meas 
ured  beat  of  the  nine  o'clock  guard  relief. 
"Cap'n  kill  me  sho',  does  I  go  back.  Ol'  M.  P. 
jail  me  does  he  ketch  me  in  Bo'deaux.  Me — 
I  fades  out." 

The  Wildcat  emerged  from  the  total  eclipse 
of  a  wide  spreading  tree  five  minutes  later 
wearing  the  French  uniform,  but  instead  of 
the  bars  of  a  Captain's  rank  on  his  sleeves 
there  gleamed  the  polished  stars  of  a  general 
of  the  line.  On  the  Wildcat's  head  was  a  cap 
encircled  by  two  wreaths  of  golden  leaves. 

"Lily — you  follows  me.  I  sho'  aims  not  to 
lead  you — me  totin'  all  dis  rank." 

In  the  rays  of  a  street  lamp  the  Wildcat 
strutted  past  his  first  M.  P.  That  young  sol 
dier  focused  his  eyes  carefully  on  the  glitter- 
[126] 


THE  WILDCAT 


ing  insignia  and  then  rendered  a  strenuous 
salute. 

"First  nigger  general  I  ever  saw.  These 
frogs  sure  beat  hell." 

The  next  M.  P.  which  the  Wildcat  passed 
came  from  another  part  of  the  United  States. 
He  did  the  best  he  could  to  express  his  senti 
ments  in  profane  language,  neither  appropri 
ate  nor  available  for  present  use.  Then  he 
swung  his  club  savagely  in  the  darkness  at  an 
imaginary  adversary. 

ii 

Meanwhile  the  Gironde  River,  the  Wildcat's 
captain  and  a  twin  star  general  of  the  A.  E.  F. 
were  each  and  severally  foaming  at  the  mouth. 

General  Bore,  a  party  to  a  session  of  refined 
military  poker,  played  his  game  wisely  during 
the  early  part  of  the  evening,  and  then  fully 
alcoholized,  played  not  too  well.  At  midnight 
the  members  of  the  party  one  by  one  departed 
through  the  rain  in  their  respective  official  con 
veyances.  The  general  lingered  for  a  final 
drink  at  the  urgent  invitation  of  his  host. 

Just  then  the  general's  car  was  laying  aban- 

[127] 


THE  WILDCAT 


doned  in  a  bank  of  soap  bubbles  beside  a  resi 
dence  near  the  river  in  which  the  general's 
chauffeur  had  discovered  a  practically  flawless 
feminine  pearl.  "No  carburetor  on  earth  can 
mix  soapsuds  and  gas  so  it'll  explode,  mon 
cherie.  T'ell  with  th'  old  bird.  Leave  him 
walk  home — or  fly, if  his  boots  is  too  tight. 
Drag  out  another  one  of  them  vang  blinks 
whilst  I  tells  you  about  life  in  San  Francisco." 

An  hour  after  midnight,  the  general  sailed 
grandly  down  the  street  through  the  rain. 
Over  the  shoal  places  in  the  sidewalk  he  backed 
and  filled  to  steerage  way,  came  about  smartly, 
luffed  from  the  menace  of  a  tree  and  tacked 
to  the  smooth  residential  cliffs  that  lined  his 
channel.  Softly,  at  times,  he  sang:  "Shine 
on,  you  doggone  silv'ry — hie!  G'wan,  baby. 
Shine  some  f 'r  the  love  of — hie !  Never  saw  a 
blacker  night.  Rain  on,  gentle  rainlets.  How 
dry  I  yam — How  driyam — Likell  I  yam.  I 
should — hie ! — worry !" 

A  soldier  of  the  A.  E.  F.  approached.  The 
general  stiffened  during  the  second  of  prox 
imity  and  snapped  a  return  to  the  M.  P.'s 
salute. 

"Not  a  globe  busted  and  the  dynamo  goin' 


THE  WILDCAT 


a  million — lit  up  like  a  dimun'  palace — an'  him 
wearin'  two  stars !"  The  M.  P.  did  some  heavy 
thinking  as  he  walked  his  post. 

in 

Pulsing  through  the  night  toward  a  secret 
base  for  subs,  the  wireless  from  Berlin  hissed 
an  order  to  the  Herr  Lieutenant  von  Stutz. 
"To  the  Gironde  approaches  from  America  a 
convoy  of  twelve  food  ships,  six  ammunition 
cargoes,  four  with  troops.  Protection  six  sub 
chasers.  Sink  the  food  ships  first." 

Eight  minutes  after  the  radio  had  reached 
the  commander's  hands,  four  undersea  boats 
were  driving  through  a  choppy  sea  toward  the 
mouth  of  the  Gironde.  At  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  the  four  submarines  lay,  decks  awash, 
off  the  mouth  of  that  river. 

Steaming  toward  their  certain  fate,  the  wal 
lowing  hulls  of  the  great  convoy  slushed 
through  the  phosphorescent  sea. 

IV 

The  Wildcat,  in  his  French  general's  uni 
form,  closely  convoyed  by  Lily,  the  goat. 


THE  WILDCAT 


prowled  through  the  mysterious  darkness  of 
Bordeaux.  Approaching  him  over  a  heavy 
rolling  sea,  carrying  a  capacity  cargo,  sailed 
the  twin-star  general. 

The  enlarging  blanket  of  soap  bubbles  fifty 
feet  deep,  bulged  from  its  inexhaustible  source 
in  gentle  but  incessant  hundred  foot  leaps. 

Looming  out  of  the  night  the  two-star  gen 
eral  saw  the  Wildcat.  First  the  red  breeches 
became  visible,  then  the  coat  with  its  heavy 
insignia.  In  the  wake  of  the  figure  General 
Bore  saw  a  ghostly  goat.  The  Wildcat's  face 
blended  so  perfectly  with  the  shadows  that  he 
appeared  to  be  headless. 

General  Bore,  fearing  for  an  instant  that 
he  was  beginning  to  see  things,  was  reassured 
by  the  gleaming  whites  of  the  Wildcat's  eyes. 

The  Wildcat  saw  the  bedraggled  general  and 
laughed.  His  mouth,  opening  in  a  wide  cres 
cent,  gave  him  the  look  of  a  man  whose  throat 
had  been  cut  considerably  more  than  the  tech 
nique  of  throat  cutting  demands. 

General  Bore,  still  doubting  his  own  reason, 
saluted  the  French  uniform.  "Bon  sore,  mon 
General." 

"Cap'n,  so  is  mine,"  the  Wildcat  replied 
[130]' 


THE  WILDCAT 


pleasantly.    "Mah  bones  sho'  is  sore — dis  rain 
likely.     Mah  feet  is  wuss." 

General  Bore  looked  puzzled.    "Voo  parley 
English?"  he  asked.     He  kicked  sideways  at 
the  goat,  Lily,  to  assure  himself  of  the  mas-, 
cot's  reality.    His  booted  foot  landed  heavily 
-on  Lily's  ribs. 

"Lay  off  dat  goat,  man.  Lily  ain't  done 
nuthin'  to  you." 

Lily,  however,  made  a  sudden  resolution. 
She  backed  off  twenty  feet  and  accumulated  a 
few  million  slugs  of  momentum.  She  landed  on 
General  Bore  south  of  his  equatorial  Sam 
Browne  belt.  General  Bore  landed  somewhere 
in  France. 

The  Wildcat  grabbed  the  rope  which  trailed 
from  the  mascot's  collar,  and  together  they 
galloped  into  the  gulf  of  night. 

The  general  assembled  himself  and  got  to 
his  feet,  posing  for  a  moment  like  an  advertise 
ment  for  a  rheumatism  cure.  And  then  he  also 
raced  from  the  scene.  Coming  toward  him  was 
a  great  black  wall  which  slithered  as  it  moved. 
The  wall  glistened  in  spots  like  polished  flint. 

"Whiskey  since  I  was  twelve,"  he  reflected, 
"but  never  another  drop  if  I  regain  my  reason." 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  surging  wall  of  bubbles  engulfed  him 
and  his  resolve.  He  began  a  wild  peal  of  laugh 
ter  which  gurgled  to  silence  in  the  blanket  of 
bubbles.  The  general's  eyes  began  to  smart. 
Around  him  was  absolute  darkness.  He 
stumbled  over  the  curb  and  fell  down  heavily. 

He  had  his  boots  on  when  he  fell.  "Never 
mind  the  guard/'  he  muttered.  "As  you  were ! 
At — rest!"  He  fanned  at  the  breaking  bub 
bles  once  or  twice  like  a  seal  wriggling  its  flip 
pers,  and  then  he  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XII 


At  daybreak  came  the  morning  breezes  and 
in  half  an  hour  the  blanket  of  bubbles  which 
lay  over  Bordeaux  and  the  Gironde  was  no 
more. 

The  rainclouds  retreated  before  the  driving 
sunshine.  In  the  early  light  the  two-star  gen^ 
eral  sat  up  on  the  curb.  He  got  to  his  feet 
and  started  steadily  for  his  residence.  He  re 
called  fragments  of  the  nightmare.  "That 
last  drink  sure  raised  hell — I'm  getting  old. 
Nigger  with  his  throat  cut — and  a  goat — and 
the  Johnstown  flood — I've  got  to  cut  it  out." 


ii 

The  Wildcat  walked  boldly  to  a  clothesline 
near  a  bathhouse  at  Beau  Desert  camp  and 
appropriated  therefrom  an  O.  D.  uniform. 
"Us  looks  too  noble  in  dese  heah  red  pants — 
'tracts  folks  too  much.  Lily,  us  fades  sudden. 
Le's  go." 

[133] 


THE  WILDCAT 


III 

The  Herr-Lieutenant  von  Stutz  dictated  a 
radiogram  to  Berlin  and  ordered  the  return 
of  his  defeated  submarine  flotilla.  "Under 
protection  of  a  screen  of  bubbles  formed  by  a 
new  gas  now  being  analyzed  by  our  chemist 
the  American  ships  eluded  us  and  safely  en 
tered  the  Gironde." 

IV 

On  the  desk  of  the  Commanding  General 
of  the  Base  lay  two  letters.  One  from  G.  H.  Q. 
recited  at  length  various  valid  reasons  why  the 
general  should  see  fit  to  accept  the  Distin 
guished  Service  Medal.  "For  your  initiative 
in  governing  the  Base,  and  for  the  expedient 
which  enabled  our  armies  to  maintain  their 
Motor  Transport  service  when  no  containers 
for  gasoline  were  available,  and  most  especially 
for  the  opportune  invention  of  the  bubble 
screen  which  undoubtedly  saved  many  ships  of 
our  last  convoy,  the  Distinguished  Service 
Medal  is  awarded  you.  You  will  please  name  a 
date  convenient  to  yourself  on  which  troops 

[134] 


THE  WILDCAT 


may  be  paraded  at  a  ceremony  during  which 
medal  and  honors  will  be  conferred," 

The  second  letter  contained  a  check  on  a 
New  York  bank.  It  was  from  Commander 
Tubby,  U.  S.  N.  "Our  agents  intercepted  ra 
diogram  from  sub  flotilla  to  enemy  headquar 
ters  indicating  attempted  attack  upon  convoy 
of  food  ships  which  recently  entered  Gironde 
safely  under  cover  of  bubble  screen  generated 
at  St.  Sulpice  Storage  Depot.  The  enclosure 
is  from  the  officers  and  crews  of  twelve  ships 
concerned,  and  will  be  awarded,  at  your  dis 
cretion,  to  the  individual  directly  responsible 
for  creation  of  screen." 

The  General  fixed  the  date  for  formally  ac 
cepting  the  Distinguished  Service  Medal  and 
wired  his  reply  to  the  letter  from  G.  H.  Q.  cov 
ering  that  subject. 

He  summoned  his  adjutant  and  issued  an 
order  for  an  investigation  to  discover  the  in 
dividual  responsible  for  the  creation  of  the 
soap  bubble  phenomena. 

He  sat  down  in  his  chair  and  lighted  the 
cork  end  of  a  cigarette.  "That's  that.  Sure 
glad  that  the  flood  wasn't  a  D.  T.  party.  Sure 
had  me  guessing  for  awhile — never  can  tell 

[1353 


THE  WILDCAT 


about  those  French  drinks  and  the  rotten  whis 
key  you  get  over  here." 


As  far  as  Lily  was  concerned,  she  was  thriv 
ing  a  million  on  a  gypsy's  career,  but  on  the 
fourth  day  of  his  wandering  the  Wildcat 
craved  arrest  and  a  fixed  future  which  includ 
ed  rations  and  a  warm  place  to  sleep.  "Bern* 
wild  an'  free  is  all  right  mebbe — but  Ah  likes 
mah  rations  reg'lah.  Dis  ramblin'  business 
suits  me  'bout  like  a  bustin'  headache  suits  a 
woodpeckeh.  Us  needs  rations.  Wh<.  i  does 
us  eat?" 

A  keen  eyed  M.  P.  solved  the  Wildcat's  prob 
lem.  "Lemme  see  your  pass." 

"Ain't  got  none — me  an'  dis  mascot " 

"What  outfit  do  you  belong  to?" 

"Fuji:  Service  Battalion — out  at  St.  Sulpice." 

"C'm  on.    Casino  f'r  yours." 

At  the  Casino  de  Lilas  the  Wildcat,  penned 
up  with  a  hundred  other  prisoners,  ate  heavily 
for  the  first  time  since  he  had  left  St.  Sulpice. 

"Rations  sho'  is  noble !"  he  grunted.  "How 
come  I  crazy  enough  to  leave  ol'  Cinnamon  an' 


THE  WILDCAT 


de  kitchen  stove.  Kaint  no  mo'n  kill  a  boy  no 
how,  an'  'at  beats  starvin'." 

"Keep  him,"  the  Wildcat's  captain  tele 
phoned  in  reply  to  advices  concerning  his 
prodigal's  capture.  "Kill  him — if  you  will 
oblige  me  that  much.  I'll  send  the  charge 
sheets  in  by  mail  this  afternoon.  A.  W.  O.  L. 
is  only  part  of  it.  That  nigger's  good  for  a 
million  years  if  he  serves  time  for  everything 
against  him." 

The  charge  sheets  missed  the  afternoon 
mail  on  account  of  a  strenuous  poker  game 
into  whose  vortex  the  Wildcat's  captain  was 
drawn  immediately  after  lunch.  Thereafter 
from  one  day  to  another  the  Wildcat  gradually 
faded  from  the  Captain's  mind — except  when 
the  Captain  was  just  on  the  point  of  falling 
asleep  at  night. 

Then  came  the  great  day  upon  which  hos 
tilities  ceased  with  the  signing  of  a  scrap  of 
paper.  When  the  news  of  the  armistice 
reached  the  ears  of  the  Wildcat's  captain,  that 
gentleman  did  some  heavy  work  via  the  cables 
to  Washington.  As  a  result  his  name  was  on 
the  first  list  of  the  fortunate  ones  designated 
for  immediate  return  to  the  United  States.  An 

[137] 


THE  WILDCAT 


order  issued  relieving  the  Wildcat's  Captain 
from  field  duty.  It  directed  him  to  report  to 
the  Embarkation  Officer  at  Genicart  for  assign 
ment  to  the  first  available  steamer  sailing  to 
New  York. 

Deloused,  if  any,  and  delighted,  the  Captain 
languished  for  many  long  days  in  the  em 
barkation  camp. 

"What  the  hell  does  'available'  steamer 
mean?"  he  demanded  one  day. 

A  disappointed  and  overworked  clerk  in  the 
transport  office  voiced  an  insubordinate  but 
perfectly  accurate  reply.  "It  means  that  West 
Point  has  the  right  of  way.  You'll  leave  here 
about  a  year  from  now.  You're  a  reserve  offi 
cer,  aren't  you?  Well,  if  West  Point  has  any 
left-overs,  you  eat — and  after  West  Point  is 
safe  home  in  the  good  old  U.  S.  A. — you'll 
start — maybe." 

It  was  then  that  the  Wildcat's  Captain  be 
gan  to  feel  alone  and  to  miss  the  faithful  black 
hands  of  his  Wildcat  servant. 


THE  WILDCAT 


VI 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  a  perfectly 
hot  day  six  regiments  of  the  A.  E.  F.  stood 
at  rigid  attention  while  General  Bore  and  a 
dozen  other  officers  inspected  them.  Facing 
the  troops  and  a  hundred  feet  distant  from 
their  front  ranks,  there  stood  massed  on  the 
parade  ground  at  Beau  Desert,  a  disorganized 
mob  of  soldiers  and  spectators.  Prominent  in 
this  mob  was  a  group  of  brunet  prisoners  from 
the  Casino  de  Lilas  detailed  that  morning  for 
the  duty  of  policing  the  parade  ground  in 
preparation  for  the  inspection  and  the  subse 
quent  ceremony. 

The  Wildcat,  standing  well  in  the  center  of 
his  group  of  fellow  offenders,  held  tightly  to 
the  collar  of  Lily,  the  mascot. 

"Turn  Lily  loose,  Wildcat,  and  see  kin  he 
graze  himself  some  grass/' 

"You-all  want  some  grass,  Lily?"  The 
Wildcat  released  the  mascot.  For  a  little  while 
Lily  stood  still,  nibbling  delicately  at  the  turf, 
and  then  she  essayed  a  short  march  to  the 
right  and  left. 

[139] 


THE  WILDCAT 


An  order  barked  suddenly  from  the  center 
of  the  troop  formation  across  the  parade 
ground.  Marching  importantly  down  the  line, 
followed  by  a  group  of  perspiring  officers, 
came  General  Bore  and  three  other  officers  of 
equal  rank.  The  group  halted  in  the  center  of 
the  line  of  troops. 

Another  series  of  orders  exploded  in  the 
heated  air  and  the  soldiers  did  various  things 
with  their  rifles. 

"Attention!"  Some  general  was  speaking. 
General  Bore  protruded  his  chest  to  receive  the 
medal  that  testified  to  his  distinguished  serv 
ices. 

Everybody  stood  still  while  General  Bore 
began  to  speak.  "I  am  not  unaware,"  he  be 
gan,  "I  am  not  unaware  of  the  fact  that  the 
great  honor  conferred  upon  me  is  but  a  com 
pliment  to  every  man  in  my  command." 

Everybody  stood  still.  Everybody,  that  is, 
except  Lily.  In  the  mascot's  brain  there  sud 
denly  awakened  memories  of  a  midnight  kick! 
O,  hated  voice! 

"You  have  served  well  and  nobly  through 
the  long  days  of  this  great  struggle,  and  every 
man  of  you  from  the  noble  quartermaster 
[140]! 


THE  WILDCAT 


corps  down  to  the  lowly  engineers  can  be  proud 
of  the  fact.    May  I  not " 

"Blaa "  Lily  interrupted. 

"May  I  not  then,  as  one  of  the " 

Lily,  shifting  to  high,  covered  the  hundred 
feet  in  three  seconds.  She  aimed  at  the 
speaker.  She  followed  through.  She  kept  her 
head  down.  She  made  a  birdie. 

General  Bore  absorbed  the  shock  of  the  mas 
cot's  weight  but  the  point  of  impact  was  too 
low  to  add  luster  to  an  over-polished  military 
dignity.  The  General  in  revolving  touched 
lightly  on  the  back  of  his  neck.  His  spurs  de 
scribed  concentric  silver  arcs  in  the  sunlight. 
The  somersault  accomplished,  he  landed  heav 
ily  on  his  feet  like  the  Swiss  Sweater  in  Act 
B.  His  final  four-legged  pose  was  that  of  a 
baby  giraffe  gazing  deep  into  a  desert  spring. 

Presently  all  except  the  younger  soldiers  re 
gained  enough  self-control  to  come  back  to  an 
approximate  attention. 

Lily,  escaping  cleverly  into  the  crowd,  be 
came  the  center  of  a  mob  of  admiring  protec 
tors.  "Rally  roun'  Lily!  Screen  dat  goat! 
Save  'at  mascot!  Rally  roun'  'at  fo'-legged 
T.  N.  T. !" 

[141] 


CHAPTER  XIII 


An  elaborate  investigation  covering  the  ori 
gin  of  the  bubble  screen  fixed  the  responsibil 
ity  upon  Vitus  Marsden,  colored,  Fust  Service 
Battalion,  A.  E.  F. 

Attached  to  the  original  report  of  the  De 
partment  of  Criminal  Investigation  was  a 
memorandum  from  which  General  Bore  discov 
ered  that  the  hero  languished  for  the  moment 
in  confinement,  paying  an  indeterminate  pen 
alty  of  servitude  for  an  undiscovered  offense. 

The  general  summoned  his  adjutant. 
"Have  this  man  brought  in  here — Vitus  Mars- 
den,  Private,  colored,  First  Service  Battalion. 
They've  got  him  at  the  Casino." 

.The  Wildcat  left  Lily  in  charge  of  his  fel 
low  prisoners  and  made  his  way  under  guard 
to  the  general's  headquarters,  via  the  Dodge 
patrol  driven  by  a  speed  king  by  the  name 
of  Roberts.  "  'At  boy  sho'  kin  ramble." 

"Delivering  a  prisoner  under  personal  or 
ders  of  the  general,"  the  guard  explained  to 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  orderly  in  the  outer  office.  "Vitus  Mars- 
den — the  Military  Wildcat,  they  call  him." 

Presently,  alone  with  the  commanding  gen 
eral  of  the  base,  the  Wildcat  began  his  story. 
"  'Ceptin'  foh  gallopin'  a  couple  o'  risk  cubes 
wheneveh  I  craves  action,  Ah's  neveh  busted 
no  regulations  so  fah  as  I  knows."  The  Wild 
cat  could  look  honest  by  straining  himself. 

"Crapshooter— that's  it,  is  it?" 

"Gin'ral,  some  calls  it  that." 

"Do  you  ever  lose?" 

"Gin'ral,  hahdly  eveh!  Boy  in  Memphis 
showed  me  once  neveh  to  ace,  dooce  o'  twelve 
— ginally  Ah  'cumulates  strong." 

The  general  gazed  out  of  his  window  over 
the  roof  of  a  vegetable  market  for  a  minute. 
,Then  suddenly  he  gave  the  Wildcat  a  match. 

"I  sentence  you  to  a  hundred  years  in  jail," 
the  general  said.  "Each  one  of  these  five  ciga 
rettes  is  ten  years — and  each  one  of  these  ten 
matches  is  five  years.  "Your  stake  is  one  five- 
year  match — shoot  out  your  sentence." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh.    Is  you  all  got  de  bones?" 

The  general,  it  appeared,  had  no  dice  in  his 
personal  equipment.  That  fact  established, 

[1431 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  Wildcat  felt  free,  in  the  emergency,  to  fish 
his  pet  gallopers  out  of  his  left  shoe. 

"They  neveh  talks  'less  they's  on  a  blanket 
Neveh  talks  on  wood." 

The  general  moved  back  from  the  center  of 
the  rug  spread  on  the  floor  of  his  office.  "Go 
to  it." 

"Whuf!  Shoots  five  yeahs!  Fade  me, 
white  boy — lemme  see  dast  you!" 

The  general,  kneeling  opposite  the  Wildcat, 
threw  a  match  upon  the  rug.  "Shoot,"  he 
said. 

"Cubeb  babies,  whang!  .  .  .  Seven,  saw  de 
bars!  Shoots  ten  yeahs!" 

"Roll  'em."  The  general  threw  a  cigarette 
beside  the  two  matches  on  the  rug. 

"Jail  breakers — speak  to  me.  Ah  nines. 
Slow  death !  Five  an'  f o',  Ah  craves.  Ramble 
you  rattlin'  risks!  Whuf! — dey  reads  six 
— tray — 'at's  nine.  Ah  lets  it  lay.  Shoots 
twenty  yeahs — military  mascot  neveh  lost  yit. 
Fade  me,  white  boy,  is  you  crazy  ?" 

"I'm  crazy,"  the  general  announced.  "Let 
'em  ramble."  He  threw  two  cigarettes  upon 
the  rug. 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Bam ! — an'  Ah  th'ows  a  six  ace  clean  th'oo 
de  ol'  jail  do' !  Shoots  it  all." 

"Forty  years,"  the  general  said.  He  cov 
ered  the  bet.  "Shoot  'em." 

"Fo'ty  yeahs !"  The  Wildcat  hesitated.  He 
picked  up  the  dice  and  rolled  them  gently  be 
tween  his  perspiring  palms. 

"Gin'ral,  whah  at  is  dis  yeah  jail?" 

"We'll  pick  a  good  jail— roll  'em." 

"Lady  Luck,  at  yo'  feet.  Lily,  stan'  by  me  1 
Li'l  jail  bustehs — ramble!  Wham! — an'  I 
reads  six,  five,  'leven  fr'm  de  Lawd.  Gin'ral, 
how  much  does  Ah  owe  you  yit?" 

"Twenty  years." 

"Shoots  twenty  yeahs.  Whuf ! — an'  I  th'ows 
five  .  .  .  ace  an'  a  fo'  opens  de  do',  whah  at 
is  you?  Th'ee  an'  two — Lady  Luck — Wham! 
—an'  Ah  fives !"  The  Wildcat  got  to  his  feet. 
"Gin'ral,  suh,  kin  Ah  go  now  ?" 

The  general  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  re 
garded  the  Wildcat  without  answering.  He 
rang  for  his  adjutant.  "Honorable  discharge 
and  immediate  transportation  to  point  of  enlist 
ment  for  this  man.  He  has  it  coming  to  him." 
The  general  reached  into  the  top  drawer  of 
his  desk  and  brought  out  a  thick  package  of 

[145] 


THE  WILDCAT 


banknotes.  "This  is  a  navy  prize  awarded 
you  for  saving  a  convoy  with  that  soap  bubble 
screen.  "Good  work — good-by — good  luck." 

Twenty  minutes  later,  en  route  to  an  em 
barkation  camp  from  the  Casino  de  Lilas,  the 
Wildcat,  his  arm  about  the  neck  of  Lily,  the 
mascot  goat,  began  to  realize  the  first  few  de 
tails  of  the  good  luck  which  had  suddenly  hit 
him.  "Hot  dam!  Lily,  how  come!" 

Three  days  later  the  Wildcat  leaned  against 
the  rail  of  a  steamship  about  to  sail  for  the 
U.  S.  A.  Beside  him,  chewing  heartily  on  an 
expensive  cigar,  stood  Lily.  The  Wildcat's 
vacant  eyes  ceased  dreaming  and  suddenly  fo 
cused  upon  a  familiar  figure  ascending  the 
stage  plank.  "Cap'n  Jack,  suh,"  he  called, 
"how  come  you  ketched  dis  boat?" 

The  Wildcat's  former  captain  looked  at  him, 
"Boy,  what  in  hell  are  you  doin'  here?'7 

"Cap'n,  suh,  I'se  headed  home — lemme  have 
yo'  coat  an'  'at  valise.  I'se  a  casual" 

"So  am  I,"  the  captain  said.  Memories  of 
long  weeks  of  waiting  in  the  embarkation  camp 
suddenly  settled  upon  him.  He  turned  to  the 
Wildcat.  "Come  down  here  and  fix  up  my 
stateroom." 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Cap'n,  suh — kin  I  take  keer  you  on  de  way 
home?" 

"If  you  don't,"  the  Captain  said,  "if  you 
don't,  I  aim  to  kill  you  whenever  I  get  time." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

Jhe  Wildcat  explained  it  all  to  Lily,  the 
mascot.  "Me  an'  Lady  Luck  plays  de  same 
game — 'at's  how  come  us  headed  home." 


[1471 


CHAPTER  XIVi 


The  Four-Leaved  Wildcat  armed  with  his 
discharge  papers  and  homeward  bound  was 
draped  loosely  over  the  inboard  rail  of  the 
steamer  which  still  lay  alongside  the  dock. 

"Wildcat,  how  come  here  you  is  yet?  For 
a  sailin'  nigger  you  is  the  hangin'  roundest  one 
I  eveh  see."  A  member  of  the  Fust  Service 
Battalion,  A.  E.  F.,  spoke  loudly  from  the 
Bordeaux  Docks  to  his  ex-associate. 

"Boy  it  takes  a  week  to  git  dis  ol'  boat's  in- 
sides  hot,"  the  Wildcat  called  back.  "When 
she  does  begin  steamin'  us  lan's  in  Memphis 
next  day." 

"Tell  the  folks  'howdy' 'when  you  sees  'em 
in  Memphis.  You  sure  is  got  a  drag — all  us 
does  is  sweat  and  carry  things  round  de  docks 
here  whilst  you  plays  in  de  big  money." 

"Me  an'  Lily  lays  right  wid  Lady  Luck," 
the  Wildcat  explained.  "All  us  does  f'm  now 
on  is  to  eat  heavy  an'  sleep  day  an'  night." 

Lily,  the  goat  ex-mascot  of  the  Fust  Service 


THE  WILDCAT 


Battalion,  munched  thoughtfully  on  a  cigar  ra 
tion  which  the  Wildcat  had  issued,  and  said 
nothing. 

The  call  of  a  bugle  floated  up  from  an  open 
hatch. 

"Lily,  'at's  mess  call.  I  ties  you  heah  'til  I 
'sorbs  mah  rations."  The  Wildcat  lashed  the 
mascot  to  the  rail  with  a  complicated  series  of 
bends  and  hitches  which  cost  him  thirty  places 
in  the  mess  line  which  was  forming  below 
decks. 

"Sho'  lost  out  on  de  fust  table.  Might  as 
well  see  if  ol'  Cap'n  Jack  wants  anythin'."  He 
made  his  way  to  the  stateroom  occupied  by  the 
former  commander  of  the  Fust  Service  Bat 
talion  where  he  discovered  Captain  Jack  deep 
in  the  composition  of  a  cablegram. 

"Cap'n,  does  I  bring  you  a  snack  of  lunch 
here  or  does  you  plan  to  eat  out  in  de  main 
cabin  ?  To'  long  us'll  be  eatin'  at  home.  Sho' 
feels  noble  startin'." 

"Get  out  of  here  and  leave  me  alone."  The 
captain  plunged  back  into  his  cablegram.  It 
was  addressed  to  a  girl  whose  father's  name 
was  on  the  lips  of  every  city  editor  in  the 
United  States.  To  the  Captain  this  girl  meant 

[149] 


THE  WILDCAT 


life,  liberty  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness,  yes 
terday,  to-day  and  to-morrow. 

The  Captain's  one  concern  at  the  moment 
was  to  tame  his  cablegram  down  so  that  plain 
English  might  convey  a  message  for  which 
there  had  been  no  words  at  the  hour  of  his  de 
parture,  months  and  years  and  centuries  be 
fore. 

As  far  as  the  Captain  was  concerned  the 
Wildcat  was  almost  superfluous.  "Get  out  of 
here  and  leave  me  alone/'  the  Captain  re 
peated. 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

The  Wildcat  stumbled  down  another  flight 
of  iron  stairs  and  elbowed  his  way  into  a  place 
at  the  dining  table  in  the  mess  hall.  "Boy, 
stand  back.  My  appetite  aches."  He  wedged 
himself  in  between  two  of  his  kind  who  were 
engaged  in  cutting  down  the  starvation  handi 
cap  as  much  as  possible  while  opportunity 
offered. 

"Pass  'at  meat.  I  aims  to  line  myse'f  com 
plete  with  meat,  an'  inside  de  meat  I  builds 
me  a  fillin'  of  potatoes,  an*  inside  the  potatoes 
I  yearns  to  'cumulate  me  some  mo'  meat." 

"Yearn  a  lot,  the  yearnin's  free.    Is  you  as 


THE  WILDCAT 


good  at  eatin'  as  you  is  at  talkin'  you  gets  the 
belt/' 

The  Wildcat  grunted  and  for  a  little  while 
his  entire  vocabularly  consisted  of  grunts. 
After  five  minutes  strenuous  exertion  his  jaws 
slowed  up  enough  to  let  him  speak  a  few  words 
to  various  companions  about  him.  He  selected 
a  victim  across  the  table  who  for  the  moment 
was  speechless  with  potatoes. 

"Gizzard  Buster,  one  more  li'l  meal  like  this 
an  yo'  military  bearin'  will  be  draggin'  the 
ground.  You  sho'  surrounds  yo'  groceries  no 
ble — call  me  champion  ration  ketcher!  Fse 
champion  in  some  things  but  I  bows  low  to 
you  when  it  comes  to  eatin'  heavy." 

A  brunet  orderly  considerably  puffed  up 
under  an  assortment  of  side  arms  entered  the 
mess  hall. 

"Tenshun!"  he  called. 

Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  him. 

"When  I  eats  I  aims  to  let  nobody  'fluence 
me."  The  Wildcat  continued  diligently  with 
his  work. 

"  Tenshun!"  the  orderly  yelled  again. 

The  Wildcat  sat  up  and  looked  around. 

"Boy,  on  your  way.    Look  out  'at  automatic 


THE  WILDCAT 


don't  blow  up  and  tear  a  ham  offen  you."  The 
Wildcat  supplemented  his  oration  with  a  tense 
whisper:  "White  man!"  and  then  in  a  voice 
as  loud  as  the  included  groceries  would  permit 
he  augmented  the  orderly's  command  with  one 
of  his  own. 

"Come  to  'tenshun  there!  Don't  you  see  'at 
officeh?"  The  aggregation  stopped  eating. 

"Ain't  no  officer.  Ain't  got  no  backin'  up 
strap  to  his  Sam  Browne  belt." 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  white  man  began  to  speak. 
"At  seven  o'clock  to-night,"  he  said,  "there  will 
be  preaching  on  the  forward  deck.  The  sub 
ject  will  be  "Polygamy  vs.  Monogamy."  He 
left  the  mess  room. 

The  Wildcat  addressed  his  companions: 
"What  us  needs  is  mo'  gin  'stead  of  so  much 
preachin'.  Wisht  I  wuz  in  Memphis.  All  us 
gits  out  of  dis  polyg'my  monotony  business  is 
big  words.  What  'at  boy  mean  'polyg'my'?" 

A  boy  farther  down  the  line  who  had  been 
exposed  to  some  schooling  spoke  up.  "Wild 
cat,  polyg'my  means  does  you  go  to  jail  to  keep 
three  or  four  wild  women  from  claimin'  your 
remains  or  does  you  let  a  couple  mo'  of  'em 
carve  you  up  'count  they's  yo'  next  of  kin." 


THE  WILDCAT 


"No  woman  claims  me.  Only  next  of  kin  I 
got  is  fo'  dollahs  I  owes  Miss  Cuspidora  Lee 
at  de  boa'din'  house  in  Memphis." 

The  Wildcat  got  up  from  the  table.  He  put 
a  couple  of  boiled  potatoes  in  his  shirt  pocket. 
"  'Specting  a  hard  winter?"  one  of  his  com 
panions  asked. 

"Feedin'  my  mascot.  That  goat  Lily  what 
brung  me  luck/' 

"How  come?" 

"Boy,  ever  since  Fse  at  the  otheh  end  of  the 
rope  whut's  round  Lily's  neck  me  an'  Lady 
Luck's  been  married." 

"Wilecat,  I  got  some  divorcin'  dice,  does  you 
crave  action?" 

The  Wildcat  looked  at  the  owner  of  the 
dice.  "Don't  start  sarcastin'  me.  Ah  cleans 
you  beggin'  in  fo'  passes  after  I  feeds  Lily. 
All  I  says,  does  anybody  crave  a  ride  to  the 
poorhouse  I  meets  'em  in  the  cellar  below  in 
five  minutes." 

The  Wildcat  went  above  and  fed  the  goat 
Lily  the  boiled  potatoes  with  his  right  hand, 
while  he  caressed  her  gently  between  the  horns 
with  his  left.  "Lily,"  he  said  aloud,  "stan'  by 

[153] 


THE  WILDCAT 


me !  In  five  minutes  the  li'l  gallopers  begins  to 
ramble.  Ah  aims  to  collect  heavy." 

The  Wildcat's  captain  stepped  up  beside  him. 
In  Captain  Jack's  eyes  was  a  faraway  look. 
"Son,"  he  said,  "get  me  a  pair  of  dice." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  dived  down 
ward  as  if  to  curry  a  flea  bite  on  his  left  ankle 
and  came  to  the  surface  with  a  pair  of  dice  in 
his  right  hand.  "Cap'n,  suh,  here  dey  is, 
steamed  up  foj  action." 

In  the  shock  of  surprise  which  followed  the 
Captain's  demand  the  Wildcat  forgot  that  the 
impending  financial  battle  would  find  him  un 
armed. 

The  Captain  took  the  dice  and  went  to  his 
stateroom  where  presently  he  began  reading 
the  upturned  faces  of  the  dice  in  an  attempt 
to  discover  in  the  law  of  averages  whether 
She  loved  him  or  She  loved  him  not.  Three 
thousand  miles  to  the  West  the  She  girl  was 
writing  a  radiogram  which  would  have  cleared 
up  the  subject  in  the  Captain's  mind  if  he 
could  have  read  it  at  the  moment. 


[154] 


THE  WILDCAT 


II 

Three  decks  down,  the  Wildcat  explored 
himself  and  produced  forty  dollars  in  green 
backs.  "Hogface,"  he  said,  "where  at's  de 
bones?" 

The  Wildcat  reached  for  the  dice.  "Shoots 
a  dollar — cash,  rally  round.  Readin'  class, 
read  'em.  They  says  seven.  I  lets  it  lay — 
Whuf!  I  heads  fo'  seven,  but  I  swerves  to 
eight.  Dice,  I  marks  you  duty.  I'se  a  eighter 
f  'm  Decatur.  Fo9  an'  f o'.  At  ease — you  loses ! 
I  lets  it  lay — Hogface,  shower  down  yo' 
money.  Whang — she  reads  eleven !  Hogface, 
feel  the  knife.  Ah  lets  it  lay.  Persimmon 
money,  the  frost'll  git  you  when  the  panic 
comes.  Ah  th'ows  hard  times !  As  you  wuz ! 
And  Ah  nines." 

"Slow  death." 

"Nine  I  craves.  Bones,  git  right.  Pair  o' 
dice !  Paradise  means  hell  f o'  you.  Ah  eight's. 
Come,  Great  Delivereh!" 

"Wilecat,  you  is  dead.  Yo'  tombstones  reads 
seven.  Han'  me  'em  bones." 

Liver  Lip,  the  next  in  the  circle  slammed  a 


THE  WILDCAT 


pair  of  sinful  cubes.  "Here's  whah  Ah  starts. 
Read  five.  Ah's  alive.  Wham!" 

"Reads  seven.    Ah  views  de  remains/' 

The  Wildcat's  fingers  itched  to  regain  the 
dice.  "You  sure  slings  painful  bone,  but  yo' 
pains  yo'se'f.  Han'  dem  babies  to  Pink  Eye." 

Pink  Eye  died  sudden. 

The  Wildcat  glanced  sideways  as  he  reached 
for  the  dice,  approximating  the  roll  of  money 
which  Hogface  held  in  his  left  hand.  "Shoots 
twenty.  Hogface,  I  needs  action.  Cover 
twenty.  Nigger,  at  rest!  Dey  reads  seven. 
Money,  at  ease.  Shoots  fo'ty.  Shoots  fo'ty. 
Shoots  fo'ty !  Century  plant  growed  up  an'  fell 
over  whilst  Ah  waits  f  'r  action." 

Hogface  peeled  forty  dollars  from  his  roll. 
The  Wildcat  rubbed  the  dice  on  the  back  of 
his  head  and  lifted  them  high  in  the  air.  "Lady 
Luck,  at  yo'  feet!  Whang!  An'  Ah  reads 
six.  Frogskin  money  you  gits  a  furlough. 
Wham!  Lady  Luck,  I  kneels  befo'  you.  Fo' 
an'  one  is  five.  Nigger,  taste  de  quinine. 
Whuf !  Lady  Luck,  I  bows  low." 

Having  posed  the  Wildcat  at  her  'feet,  kneel 
ing  before  her  and  bowing  low,  Lady  Luck  put 
on  a  pair  of  hobnailed  marching  shoes.  She 


THE  WILDCAT 


sneaked  around  behind  the  Wildcat  and  aimed 
a  T.  N.  T.  kick  at  him. 

Lady  Luck's  foot  landed  heavy.  Financially 
speaking,  the  Wildcat's  remains  were  spat 
tered  all  over  the  scenery.  He  read  his  doom 
in  the  seven  black  dots  that  lay  on  the  face  of 
the  dice.  He  staggered  painfully  to  his  feet. 
Once  on  his  feet  he  began  to  haul  in  his  lower 
jaw  which  had  sagged  something  less  than  a 
foot. 

"Where  at  is  you  goin'?"  The  Wildcat  had 
started  for  the  stairway. 

"I  aims  to  throw  'at  mascot  overboa'd." 

"You  has  a  dollar  yet — see  kin  you  build 
it  up."  Hogface  wise  to  his  peculiar  cubes 
which  he  had  introduced,  craved  a  hundred  per 
cent  catastrophe  for  his  opponent. 

"Pair  o'  dice  is  hell  for  me  is  it?"  he  taunted. 
"Wilecat,  I  say  you  got  a  spoonful  of  brim 
stone.  Shoots  a  dollar." 

The  Wildcat  covered  his  bet  with  his  last 
dollar  bill. 

"Let  'em  ramble.  Hogface  launched  a  pair 
of  fives  into  a  waiting  world  and  thereafter  for 
what  seemed  centuries  to  the  Wildcat  the  gal 
loping  dominoes  refused  to  speak. 

[157] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  seven  and  eleven  seemed  lost  beyond 
recall.  The  Wildcat  began  to  squirm  around 
on  the  hooks  of  suspense.  Presently  he  itched. 
Itching,  he  scratched. 

"  'Tenshun !"  In  the  bulkhead  door  stood  a 
medical  officer  with  gold  leaves  on  his  shoulder 
and  a  couple  of  snakes  biting  each  other  pinned 
to  his  collar.  The  Wildcat  struggled  to  his 
feet.  He  grabbed  the  dice,  neglecting  how 
ever  to  accumulate  the  dollar  bills  whose  own 
ership  was  not  yet  established. 

The  officer  pointed  to  the  Wildcat.  "You 
boy,  come  here." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  came  to  at 
tention  in  front  of  the  medical  officer. 

"Did  I  see  you  scratching  yourself  just 
now?" 

"Gin'ral,  mebbe  Ah  scratched  some." 

The  "General"  wrote  briefly  on  a  pad  which 
he  produced  from  a  pocket  of  his  blouse.  "Re 
port  to  the  commanding  officer  of  the  delousing 
plan  at  once." 

"Me?"  The  Wildcat's  lower  jaw  stayed 
down. 

The  medical  officer,  having  gratified  his  of 
ficial  appetite,  wasted  a  moment  on  his  lat- 


THE  WILDCAT 


est  victim.  "I  mean  you.  Anybody  that's  as 
far  from  lonesome  externally  as  you  seem  to 
be  sure  needs  another  trip  through  the  mill." 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  Ah  read  mah  shirt  only  dis 
mawnin' — they  wasn't  nothin'  theh  'ceptin' 
some  lint." 

The  General's  manner  changed.  "Don't 
talk  back.  Get  ashore  before  I  put  you  in 


irons." 


The  irons  business  sounded  far  from  noble. 
The  Wildcat  clambered  up  the  stairway  and 
walked  over  to  where  Lily  was  tied  to  the  rail. 

Several  members  of  the  Fust  Service  Bat 
talion  working  on  the  dock  below  spotted  the 
Wildcat.  The  Backslid  Baptist  called  up  at 
him:  "Boy,  ain't  you  gone  yet?"  The  Wild 
cat  started  down  the  gangplank  leading  Lily. 
"How  come  you  unloadin'?"  The  Wildcat 
started  a  complicated  explanation  to  a  group 
which  gathered  around  him.  After  the  third 
false  start  he  was  interrupted. 

"Wildcat,  once  you  was  a  sergeant  and  they 
redoosted  you.  Once  Ah  figgered  you  was  de' 
bigges''  liar  in  de  world.  Now  I  knows  you  is. 
You  and  yo'  'ficial  business!  You's  been 
washed  ashore." 

£159] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  looked  at  his  companions. 
"Mebbe  you  is  right/'  He  started  away. 

"Where  at  is  you  headed  fo'?"  The  Wild 
cat  took  up  the  slack  end  of  Lily's  tow  line. 
"Lily,  head  round  heah!  Me?  Doctor  says 
Tse  Jf  ested.  Right  now  I  aims  to  ketch  up  'ith 
Lady  Luck  and  beat  'at  woman  to  death." 

He  started  away  from  the  docks  along  the 
road  that  would  presently  lead  up  the  hill  to 
the  delousing  plant  at  Genicart. 

Late  that  night  the  adjutant  at  the  receiving 
camp  directed  the  Wildcat  to  report  to  some 
place  or  other  which  the  Wildcat  forgot.  He 
saluted  and  shambled  out  of  the  office  where 
the  mascot  awaited  him. 

"Lily,  us  heads  back  for  St.  Sulpice  where 
de  old  gang  is.  What  us  needs  is  to  get  at 
tached  for  rations  an'  six  blankets  and  all  de 
sleep  what  is." 


fi6o] 


CHAPTER  XV 


At  midnight  the  "Texan",  carrying  the  Wild 
cat's  Captain  Jack,  the  victorious  Hogface  and 
the  Wildcat's  forty  dollars,  cleared  on  the  ebb 
tide  for  Paulliac,  the  mouth  of  the  Gironde 
and  the  jump  across  the  Atlantic.  Before  the 
ship  had  fairly  started  downstream  a  radio 
gram  was  received  on  board  for  Captain  Jack. 
That  officer  was  at  the  moment  several  dollars 
under  the  surface  of  a  sea  of  poker.  One  of 
the  stewards  handed  Captain  Jack  the  message. 
He  read  it  hastily  and  turned  to  an  officer 
seated  near  him,  "Play  my  hand,"  he  said. 
"I'm  done."  He  walked  quickly  to  his  state- 
room.  He  laid  the  message  on  his  locker  and 
began  to  buckle  the  straps  about  a  suitcase 
which  lay  open  on  the  floor. 

He  glanced  at  the  message.  "Sailing  to-day 
with  Papa  Peace  Congress  Paris." 

Captain  Jack  locked  his  suitcase.  He  picked 
up  the  message  and  left  the  stateroom.  He 
made  his  way  to  the  office  of  the  ship's  sur- 

[161] 


THE  WILDCAT 


geon  where  he  found  that  officer  engaged  in 
mixing  himself  an  invigorating  drink. 

"I  have  yellow  fever,  smallpox  and  bubonic 
plague/'  Captain  Jack  stated.  "I  want  an  or 
der  putting  me  ashore  with  the  mail  boat  at 
Paulliac.  I  prefer  to  die  in  France.  I  love 
France." 

The  ship's  surgeon  looked  at  him.  "Mix 
yourself  a  drink.  You  are  also  mentally  un 
balanced." 

"Surge,  beside  those  other  diseases,"  Cap 
tain  Jack  said,  "I  have  heart  disease."  He 
showed  the  ship's  surgeon  the  radiogram. 
"Papa  is  the  biggest  professional  senator  in 
the  known  world.  He  will  stay  in  Paris  until 
the  show  finishes.  Dead  or  alive  I  propose  to 
meet  Papa  in  Paris  and  relieve  him  of  all  re 
sponsibility  as  far  as  his  daughter  is  con 
cerned.  Will  you  or  will  you  not  put  me  and 
my  heart  disease  ashore  at  Paulliac  ?" 

The  surgeon  looked  at  him.  "I'm  not  a  re 
serve  officer.  I  never  take  chances.  I  will  not 
put  you  ashore  at  Paulliac." 

Captain  Jack  hesitated  a  moment.  "All  I 
can  say  is  that  you  are  a  fine  son  of  a " 

"However,"  the  surgeon  interrupted,  "if  you 
[162] 


THE  WILDCAT 


care  to  go  ashore  for  me  officially  to  get  me 
one  thousand  shots  of  flu  dope  from  the  Naval 
Station  I  will  give  you  a  clearance  and  may 
God  have  mercy  on  my  soul  I" 

Captain  Jack  held  out  his  hand.  "Surge, 
I'll  say  you  are  a  regular  navy  man.  Orders 
is  orders.  Write  one  quick  so  I  can  carry  the 
document  in  my  hand." 

The  surgeon  summoned  a  messenger  and 
pretty  soon  Captain  Jack  was  the  possessor  of 
an  order  which  authorized  him  to  go  ashore 
at  Paulliac.  In  the  cold  dawn  he  clambered 
down  the  ship's  side  and  boarded  the  Navy 
yawl  which  lay  alongside.  Twenty  minutes 
later  he  was  lost  in  the  jungles  of  the  A.  E.  F. 


ii 


The  Wildcat  attached  himself  and  Lily  for 
rations  several  times  at  various  camps  while 
he  was  covering  the  twenty  miles  between  the 
Bordeaux  docks  and  St.  Sulpice.  For  the  first 
few  days  his  presence  at  St.  Sulpice  was  not 
officially  noted.  Most  of  the  time  he  spent 
hanging  around  the  kitchen.  Reveille  and 


THE  WILDCAT 


taps,  drills,  formations  and  inspections,  meant 
nothing  to  him. 

"Sure  is  de  grandes'  army  Ah  ever  see." 
For  awhile  he  was  so  busy  eating  that  he  hardly 
had  time  to  sleep  and  then  there  came  a  time 
when  he  was  so  busy  sleeping  that  he  had 
difficulty  in  doing  justice  to  the  rations  which 
lay  in  profusion  around  him. 

"Only  trouble  us  is  got  is  short  days." 
Heaven  to  the  Wildcat  was  a  place  just  like 
St.  Sulpice,  only  with  days  two  or  three  times 
as  long.  Not  until  payday  did  he  realize  the 
disadvantage  of  being  a  free-lance  soldier. 
Other  boys  marched  up  and  got  eighty-three 
francs  or  more,  depending  on  their  grade  and 
how  the  Government  happened  to  be  feeling 
that  day,  but  the  Wildcat  lingered  in  the  back 
ground  thoughtfully  thumbing  Hogf ace's  dice 
and  wondering  where  at  could  he  git  himself  a 
stake  to  build  up  with. 

Payday  progressed  as  fast  as  the  clocks 
could  make  it  but  somehow  the  Wildcat  failed 
to  collect.  At  evening  he  was  sitting  on  the 
ground  at  one  corner  of  his  bunkhouse,  enjoy 
ing  the  last  rays  of  the  sun.  "Com.e  easy,  go 
easy" — Ah  cubes  myse'f  rich  an*  Lady  Luck 
[164] 


THE  WILDCAT 


runs  me  ragged."    Softly  he  began  to  hum  his 
old  philosophy: 

"Ah  don't  bother  work,  work  don't  bother  me ; 

Fse  fo'  times  as  happy  as  a  buh-humble  bee. 

Eats  when  Ah  kin  git  it,  sleeps  mos'  all  de  time, 

Ah  don't  give  a  doggone  if  de  sun  don't  neveh  shine. 

"Ah  kin  ride  a  freight  train,  I  don't  pay  no  fare, 
I  kin  ride  a  steamboat  mos'  anywhere. 

'At's  de  reason  I'se  as  happy  as  a  bee 

I  don't  bother  work  an'  work  don't  bother  me." 

The  mascot,  Lily,  hearing  her  master's  voice, 
came  parading  around  the  corner  of  the  bunk- 
house.  Lily  had  been  toying  with  a  salad 
course  and  fragments  of  her  menu  showed 
about  her  mouth.  In  the  corner  of  her  jaw, 
drooping  modestly  with  its  noble  suggestion, 
hung  a  four-leaf  clover. 

In  the  growing  darkness  the  Wildcat 
grabbed  Lily  by  the  head  while  he  inspected  the 
talisman  in  the  goat's  mouth.  "Lady  Luck,  I 
heahs  you !  De  jail  door's  open  at  las' !" 

In  an  adjoining  bunkhouse  the  big  crap 
game  was  in  progress.  Around  it  at  the  four 
doors  of  the  structure  four  more  smaller 


THE  WILDCAT 


games  were  going  strong.  The  Wildcat  el 
bowed  his  way  into  the  fringe  of  one  of  these 
smaller  groups.  "Boy,"  he  said  to  one  of  the 
non-combatants,  "leave  me  mortgage  Lily  to 
you  fo'  a  hundred  francs."  The  mustard  col 
ored  soldier  looked  at  him  without  reply. 

The  Wildcat  made  a  vociferous  announce 
ment.  "Ah'll  tell  the  world  dis  mascot's  worth 
a  million  dollahs  fo'  luck.  Any  boy  here  whut 
lends  me  fifty  francs  gits  a  mortgage  on 
Lily.  Fo'ty  francs — thirty  francs — twenty 
francs " 

The  Backslid  Baptist,  against  whom  luck 
had  been  running  pretty  measly  in  spite  of  his 
personal  dice,  handed  a  twenty  franc  note  to 
the  Wildcat.  "I  lends  you  twenty — see  what 
kin  you  do." 

The  Wildcat  took  the  twenty  franc  note 
with  his  right  hand,  listening  meanwhile  to  the 
betting  in  the  big  game.  Hundred  franc  notes 
seemed  to  be  common  currency.  He  edged 
into  one  of  the  satellite  games  near  the  door. 
Lily,  still  following  him,  in  spite  of  the  tem 
porary  change  of  proprietors,  shadowed  close 
behind  him.  In  the  Wildcat's  hand,  under  the 
twenty  franc  note,  lay  Hogface's  dice. 
[166] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  knelt  in  the  doorway  of  the 
bunkhouse.  Behind  him,  standing  on  the 
ground,  was  the  faithful  mascot.  "Shoots 
twenty  francs,"  the  Wildcat  announced. 
"Keep  yo'  dice — Ah  has  my  own." 

"Boy,  roll  'em." 

"Wham!    Seven.    Shoots  forty  francs." 

"Boy,  roll  'em." 

"Wham!    Seven.    Shoots  eighty  francs." 

"Boy,  roll  'em." 

"Bam!  Lilly  Joe — an'  two  an'  two  comes 
back."  The  Wildcat  dragged  down  part  of 
his  winnings." 

"Shoots  a  hund'ed  francs." 

Thereafter  for  five  minutes  with  unvaried 
monotony  the  Wildcat  found  seven,  eleven  or 
his  point.  He  began  to  attract  the  attention 
of  some  of  the  experts  in  the  big  game.  "Boys, 
ol'  Wilecat  done  come  back." 

"Lemme  see  dem  dice."  A  saddle-colored 
giant  who  had  been  whittled  down  to  a  finan 
cial  zero  in  three  passes  carefully  inspected  the 
Wildcat's  dice.  "Risk  cube  looks  all  right," 
he  grunted. 

"Dey  is  all  right.     Dey  knows  their  man- 


THE  WILDCAT 


ager.  Is  you  broke  stan'  back.  Shoots  a  hun- 
d'ed  francs." 

A  successful  poker  player  in  the  big  game, 
scenting  wide  action,  deserted  his  companions 
and  covered  the  Wildcat's  bet.  He  was  pres 
ently  followed  by  several  more  large  rolls  of 
money  completely  surrounded  by  cinnamon  col 
ored  fists.  Pretty  soon  the  Wildcat,  kneeling 
in  the  doorway  of  the  bunkhouse,  had  become 
the  center  of  attraction  for  the  Fust  Service 
Battalion.  His  hat  on  the  floor  beside  him 
was  half  full  of  crumpled  fifty  franc  notes, 
moist  with  the  perspiration  of  dusky  palms. 

In  the  darkness  outside  the  doorway  Lily 
the  mascot  bleated  faintly.  "Sing  loud,  Lily — 
Ah  buys  you  a  gol'  watch  an'  chain  to-mor 


row." 


"Blaa,"  sang  Lily.  "Wildcat,  dear  Wild 
cat,  come  home  while  you're  rich." 

The  Wildcat  paid  no  heed  to  Lily's  warning. 
"Shoots  a  hund'ed  francs.  Bam!  These 
cubes  is  poison.  I  reads  eleven.  Shoots  two 
hundred." 

"Boy,  roll  'em,." 

The  Wildcat  rolled  'em.  Bones  means 
bonus.  Shoots  fo'  hund'ed.  Laz'rus  come 
[168] 


THE  WILDCAT 


fo'th.  Is  dat  money  meat,  you  was  lucky  does 
you  get  de  gravy.  Shower  down,  brother, 
shower  down.  Git  weak  while  Ah  git  strong. 
Pam !  An'  it  says  six  Ace !" 

The  Wildcat  gathered  in  his  latest  winnings 
and  rammed  the  banknotes  into  the  hat  beside 
him.  The  money  market  tightened  up  a  little. 
"Shower  down,  brothers,  I  shoots  fifty  francs." 
Three  "brothers"  pooled  and  covered  the  bet. 
"Whuf!  Five  an' a  deuce.  I  lets  it  lay." 

Nobody  seemed  inclined  to  cover  the  bet. 
The  Wildcat  dragged  down  all  except  twenty 
francs. 

"Iodine  dice,  you  is  marked  duty.  Shoots 
twenty  francs.  Shoots  twenty  francs.  Cash, 
rally  round.  How  come  everybody  slowed 
up?" 

"Everybody's  slowed  up  'cause  payday's 
done  built  a  nest  in  yo'  hat." 

The  Wildcat  had  accumulated  practically  all 
of  the  surplus  funds  of  the  Fust  Service  Bat 
talion's  payday. 

"Shoots  ten  francs.  Any  boy?  Any  boy? 
Is  all  you  niggers  bust?  Ah  couldn't  a  killed 
you  quicker  had  Ah  th'owed  gas  bombs. 
Shoots  five  francs.  Shower  down  five  francs." 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Backslid  Baptist  produced  his  last  five 
franc  note.  "Boy,"  he  said,  "here's  where  Ah 
starts  to  build  up." 

The  Wildcat  spun  a  pair  of  careless  cubes. 
"Gallopers,  as  you  wuz !  Oveh  the  riveh.  Six 
an'  five!  Backslid  you  is  skinned  alive.  At 
Res' !  Money,  come  heah." 

The  Wildcat  picked  up  the  two  five  franc 
notes  and  reached  back  to  shove  them  into  his 
hat  on  the  doorsill.  Deep  in  the  hat,  his  hand 
encountered  Lily's  munching  jaws  and  deeper 
still  the  mascot's  cold  nose  was  exploring  a  va 
cancy  which  had  been  filled  a  little  while  before 
by  highly  scented  French  banknotes. 

The  Wildcat  jerked  the  mascot's  head  into 
the  light.  To  the  mascot's  jaw  which  an  hour 
before  had  been  garnished  with  the  four-leaf 
clover  there  adhered  the  corner  of  a  hundred 
franc  note.  Somebody  in  the  crowd  saw  it. 

"Lily's  et  payday !  Git  a  bayonet  an'  empty 
dat  goat!"  LThe  Wildcat  was  about  to  reach 
for  the  razor  which  dangled  between  his  shoul 
der  blades  under  his  shirt  when  some  natu 
ralist  postponed  the  major  operation  which 
would  have  considerably  embarrassed  Lily's 
health  and  strength. 


THE  WILDCAT 


''Payday's  gone.  Money's  gone.  Goats  di 
gests  grub  sudden." 

The  Wildcat  grabbed  his  four-legged  treas 
ury  department  by  the  horns.  "Lily,  you  long 
haired  bank,  wuz  you  human  Ah'd  feed  you 
to  de  hogs." 

"Lay  off  'at  goat !"  the  Backslid  Baptist  in 
terposed.  "I  holds  a  twenty  franc  mortgage 
on  him." 

The  Wildcat  shoved  his  remaining  ten 
francs  to  the  Backslid  one.  "Take  dis.  You 
and  me  is  partners  in  dis  mascot.  Keep  me 
off'n  him  is  all  I  says.  Keep  me  ofFn  him  'til 
Ah  tames  down." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Captain  Jack  remained  discreetly  under 
cover  in  Paulliac  for  a  week  as  a  welcome  guest 
of  the  Navy  gang.  He  crossed  the  river  one 
evening  and  at  Blaye,  having  avoided  all  local 
military  police,  he  boarded  a  train  headed  for 
Paris.  He  arrived  in  Paris  two  days  later, 
just  in  time  to  participate  as  a  victim  in  one 
of  the  periodical  military  raids  which  ever  and 
anon  added  zest  to  the  business  of  being  A.  W. 
O.  L. 

"But  what  the  hell  do  we  care?"  he  asked 
a  brother  victim  en  route  to  that  section  of  the 
bull  pen  reserved  for  officers  of  the  A.  E.  F., 
who  strayed  from  the  straight  and  crooked 
line  of  military  red  tape.  He  headed  blithely 
for  his  prison.  Papa's  daughter,  light  of  a  mid 
night  world,  was  headed  for  Paris,  and  Cap 
tain  Jack  trusted  his  luck. 

Three  days  later  the  Paris  edition  of  The 
Herald  announced  the  arrival  of  Papa.  "The 
Senator  is  accompanied  by  his  daughter." 


THE  WILDCAT 


A  week  later,  having  failed  in  five  official 
attempts  to  avoid  an  impending  general  court- 
martial,  which  appeared  to  be  a  pretty  serious 
business,  Captain  Jack  was  not  so  blithe.  For 
various  obvious  reasons,  the  Captain  had  re 
frained  from,  communicating  with  his  Lady  of 
Love,  who  at  that  moment  was  wondering  why 
the  devil  her  prodigal  Romeo  had  not  answered 
her  radiogram.  Her  Papa  Senator  busy  with 
his  stomach  and  affairs  of  state  involving  the 
fate  of  several  nations,  interested  himself  in 
discovering  Captain  Jack's  trail. 

It  developed  that  the  officer  had  been  last 
seen  on  board  the  "Texan"  at  Paulliac,  headed 
home,  and  that  he  had  not  landed  in  New 
York. 

ii 

The  great  storage  depot  at  St.  Sulpice  had 
functioned  properly  and  the  end  of  the  war 
had  rendered  the  hundreds  of  buildings  useless, 
and  so,  presently,  the  chemical  fire  extinguish 
ers  ordered  fourteen  months  before,  began  to 
arrive. 

A  colonel  witH  varnished  boots  appointed  a 
fire  marshal  to  take  charge  of  the  equipment 

[173] 


THE  WILDCAT 


and  the  fire  marshal  appointed  a  fire  officer  to 
organize  a  system,  whereby  the  ghost  of  great 
ness  could  be  saved  in  the  event  of  a  fire  break 
ing  out. 

The  fire  officer,  busy  with  the  details  of  fabri 
cating  this  organization  from  the  human  tim 
ber  about  him  walked  past  a  hut  in  which  the 
Wildcat  was  doing  the  best  he  could  to  rest 
himself  so  that  he  would  have  strength  enough 
to  eat  a  heavy  supper. 

"Ah  kin  ride  a  freight  train  mos'  any 
where/'  the  Wildcat  sang. 

"What  grieves  me  is  why  don't  you  ride 
one,  Wilecat?"  one  of  his  auditors  commented. 
"You  says  you  kin  do  lots.  All  Ah  see  you  do 
is  lay  round  sleepin',  'ceptin'  when  you  gits  up 
to  eat." 

"Boy,  Ah  kin  do  lots.  Ah  kin  cut  me  lawns 
an'  Ah  kin  aviate.  Ah  tames  wild  animals. 
Lily,  come  heah.  Wid  horses  an'  mules  Ah 
ain't  seed  my  equal.  I'se  champion  mule  driver 
of  de  world,  an'  wid  de  gallopin'  dom 
inoes " 

The  fire  officer  poked  his  head  inside  the 
hut.  "Boy,  you  say  you  can  handle  horses?" 

[174] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"  Tenshun !"  The  Wildcat  got  to  his  feet. 
"Cap'n,  yessuh.  Shore  kin." 

"And  mules?" 

"Cap'n,  suh,  Ah  knows  mules  so  good  dat 
sometimes  Ah  think  dey's  mule  blood  in  me." 

"Come  with  m,e."  The  Captain  led  the  way 
over  to  a  corral  where  some  desperate  looking 
mules  were  trying  to  eat  their  daily  allowance 
of  expensive  hay. 

"Get  a  couple  of  them  mules,"  the  Captain 
directed.  "Bring  them  over  to  the  chemical 
fire  engine.  The  red  painted  one.  Hitch  'em 
up  and  keep  'em  ready  at  all  hours.  Keep  'em 
ready  to  answer  any  fire  alarms.  You're  on 
duty  from  one  o'clock  until  eight  o'clock  at 
night." 

"Cap'n,  when  does  Ah  eat?" 

"Don't  bother  me  with  details.  Carry  out 
your  orders  or  I'll  cremate  your  constitution." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  walked  over 
and  mentally  selected  a  couple  of  agile  looking 
mules.  "Mules,  you  an'  me  is  the  fire  de 
partment  with  a  red  wagon  hitched  onto  us. 
Come  over  heah."  The  black  mule  drooped  a 
casual  ear.  The  gray  one  sneered  as  much  as 
a  mule  could  sneer  with  his  face  full  of  hay. 

[175] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Thirty  minutes  later  with  the  assistance  of 
half  the  Fust  Service  Battalion  the  Wildcat 
had  succeeded  in  festooning  his  four-legged 
victims  with  a  variegated  assortment  of  har 
ness,  parts  of  which  were  hooked  up  to  the 
chemical  fire  wagon.  His  labors  finished  for 
the  moment  he  reclined  languidly  on  the  top 
seat  of  the  red  painted  fire  wagon.  Below  him 
on  the  ground  there  lingered  a  group  of  his 
brunet  associates. 

"Hand  up  'at  mascot,"  the  Wildcat  directed. 
Lily  was  boosted  up  to  the  seat  beside  the  Wild 
cat,  and  in  this  inconspicuous  position  the  pair 
waited  and  waited  and  waited  for,  the  first 
alarm  of  the  fire  department.  The  army  was 
short  on  fire  alarms  that  afternoon  and  when 
his  relief  came  at  eight  o'clock  the  Wildcat 
had  not  turned  an  official  wheel. 

"Sho'  have  to  get  me  a  cushion  fo'  'at  seat 
or  else  set  on  Lily."  He  climbed  down  from 
the  fire  apparatus  and  walked  hastily  to  the 
kitchen  where  he  did  the  best  he  could  to  eat 
himself  to  death. 

"Ah  aims  to  nutrify  myse'f  heavy  'til  adipos 
ity  sleeps  me,"  he  said  after  the  fourth  helping 
of  roast  pork  had  disappeared  down  his  neck. 


THE  WILDCAT 


ill 

Two  days  after  the  Wildcat  had  established 
himself  as  conductor  of  the  four-wheeled  fire 
department  of  St.  Sulpice  a  fire  guard  down 
among  the  warehouses  sought  to  justify  his 
career  by  taking  a  couple  of  illicit  outdoor 
drags  on  a  cigarette.  Having  successfully 
busted  this  recent  "No  Smoking"  order  he 
threw  the  cigarette  away  and  made  the  rounds 
of  a  group  of  buildings  which  he  was  guard 
ing. 

Returning  to  the  site  of  his  nicotine  picnic 
ten  minutes  later  he  was  surprised  to  discover 
a  grass  fire  well  under  way.  He  hurried  over 
to  the  next  guard  and  borrowed  three  car 
tridges  which  he  fed  into  his  rifle,  after  which 
he  discharged  the  piece  in  the  air  according  to 
regulations. 

Further  down  the  yard  a  siren  signal 
sounded.  The  Wildcat  heard  it.  "Lily,"  he 
said  to  the  mascot  beside  him,  "  'at's  de  eve- 
nin'  quittin5  whistle.  Us  eats  now." 

An  excited  officer  came  tearing  out  of  head 
quarters.  "Boy,"  he  said  to  the  Wildcat,  "why 

[177] 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  hell  don't  you  answer  that  fire  signal?  Get 
out  of  town  before  I  kill  you/' 

The  Wildcat  needed  no  second  order.  "Lily, 
let's  go."  He  shook  the  kinks  out  of  the  lines 
and  burned  the  accelerator  into  the  epidermis 
of  the  starboard  mule.  The  mule  turned  round 
and  gave  him  a  pained  look.  "On  yo'  way!" 
The  Wildcat  poured  the  leather  into  his  four- 
legged  motive  power. 

The  black  mule  shifted  to  second.  Passing 
the  camp  limits  the  Wildcat  was  standing  up 
in  his  seat  like  a  chariot  racer.  Halfway  down 
the  yard,  between  the  camp  and  Izon,  the  Wild 
cat  resolved  to  swing  to  the  right  into  a  road 
which  led  to  the  scene  of  the  fire,  but  at  Izon 
the  mules  were  writing  some  sixty  mile  his 
tory  on  the  surface  of  France. 

On  the  long  stretch  of  straight  road  which 
lay  between  Izon  and  the  banks  of  the  Garonne 
at  San  Pardon  the  Wildcat  discovered  that  he 
was  chaperoning  a  duplex  runaway.  "Never 
knowed  mules  could  run  so  fast." 

In  the  next  few  minutes  he  learned  consid 
erably  more  about  mules.  Ben  Hur,  Paul  Re 
vere  and  Mazeppa  were  as  good  as  left  at  the 
post  when  the  cyclone  hit  San  Pardon.  Headed 
[178] 


THE  WILDCAT 


straight  for  the  river  the  Wildcat  sought 
refuge  in  religion.  He  discovered  that  mules 
were  slow  in  answering  prayers.  He  cut  loose 
an  assorted  string  of  profanity  which  rang 
high  above  the  rattle  around  him. 

"Ah,  ze  crazy  Americans  again/'  A  lan 
guid  French  farmer  glanced  idly  at  the  four- 
wheeled  tornado  which  clattered  through  the 
streets  of  the  deserted  town.  Fifty  feet  from 
the  edge  of  the  dock  the  mules  played  a  low- 
down  trick  on  the  Wildcat  and  his  personally 
conducted  mascot.  They  swung  sharply  to  the 
right,  unhitched  themselves  almost  naked  and 
went  up  an  alley  where  cheering  cognac  could 
be  bought  for  fifty  centimes  a  drink. 

The  Wildcat  and  Lily,  considerably  fes 
tooned  with  the  crimson  chemical  fire  depart 
ment,  plunged  straight  ahead  until  the  humid 
ity  became  thick  enough  to  swim  in. 

"Good  mawnin' "  The  rest  of  the  salu 
tation  was  gurgled  up  with  the  gentle  waves 
of  the  Garonne  River.  Coming  to  the  surface, 
the  Wildcat  struck  out  straight  away  from  the 
fate  which  lay  behind  him.  The  mascot  swam 
strongly  downstream  into  the  distance.  She 
gave  a  plaintive  bleat  of  farewell. 

[179] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Over  his  shoulder  the  Wildcat  glimpsed  his 
four-legged  comrade.  "Lily,  you  hell-raisin' 
hoodoo,  good-by."  The  Wildcat  went  away 
from  there  headed  across  the  river  as  fast  as 
swinging  arms  could  drag  him. 


[180] 


CHAPTER  XVII 

The  lookout  in  the  crow's  nest  of  the 
"Texan"  headed  upstream  toward  Bordeaux 
on  her  return  trip  from  New  York  congratu 
lated  himself  that  in  fifteen  minutes  he  would 
be  off  watch.  "Ja  Da,  Ja  Da,"  ne  san£  softly, 
"Ja  Da,  Ja  Da,  Alyce  Lee."  At  the  top  of  his 
voice  he  added  a  few  more  words  not  in  the 
original  text.  "Three  points  to  the  starboard, 
sir,"  he  yelled,  and  five  seconds  later  the  tele 
graph  in  the  engine  room  read  "Full  astern." 

A  boat  swung  down  from  the  davits  and  cast 
off.  It  headed  for  the  swimmer  in  the  distance. 
Presently  the  boat  returned  alongside  the  ship. 
"Only  a  blasted  goat,"  the  bo'sun  called  up  to 
the  officer  on  the  bridge. 

"Best  luck  in  the  world,"  that  sailor  called 
back.  "Heave  him  on  board.  Warm  him  up 
and  feed  him."  A  signal  rang  in  the  engine 
room  and  the  "Texan"  resumed  her  course. 

Lily  the  mascot,  enjoying  the  attention  of 
half  the  crew  below  decks,  felt  that  after  all 

[181] 


THE  WILDCAT 


life  was  real,  life  was  noble  and  that  mascots 
fared  better  in  the  Navy  than  they  did  in  the 
Army  anyway. 

n 

The  Wildcat  made  the  far  bank  of  the  Ga 
ronne  as  night  fell.  As  he  dragged  himself 
up  the  bank  he  reflected  that  he  was  a  pretty 
tired  lizard,  but  that  his  only  hope  of  retaining 
his  health  and  strength  lay  in  putting  many 
miles  between  himself  and  the  hornet  officers 
of  St.  Sulpice. 

At  dawn  he  boarded  a  train  which  was  pull 
ing  out  of  Libourne.  "Ah  kin  ride  a  freight 
train  mos'  anywhere."  The  train  consisted  of 
a  dozen  passenger  coaches  and  five  freight  cars. 
The  Wildcat  selected  a  flat  car  on  which  were 
carried  two  immense  wine  casks.  Between  the 
curved  staves  of  the  casks  and  the  deck  of  the 
car  he  found  seclusion  enough  to  prevent  his 
being  discovered  by  the  languid  police  at  the 
various  stations  along  the  line. 

"Ah  sho'  is  hongry."  Soldiers  in  olive  drab 
along  the  road  made  it  advisable  for  him  to 
keep  traveling. 

"Mebbe  dis  olj  whale  of  a  barrel  has  good 


THE  WILDCAT 


sorghum  in  it."  The  Wildcat  dug  his  knife 
into  the  oaken  staves  which  lay  above  him. 
After  four  hours'  work  the  knife  blade  pene 
trated  the  barrel  and  a  thin  stream  of  crimson 
wine  leaped  downward  to  the  Wildcat's  open 
mouth. 

"Never  knowed  oY  Van  Red  tasted  so  good." 
During  the  course  of  the  succeeding  forty-eight 
hours  the  Wildcat  did  the  best  he  could  to  drink 
up  a  few  hundred  gallons  of  wine. 

He  woke  up  in  the  brilliant  sunlight  of  Mar 
seilles.  He  batted  his  eyes  and  sat  up.  The 
train  had  stopped.  "Wonder  where  at  is  Ah  at? 
OF  Vang  Rouge  sho'  steams  a  boy  up,  but  it 
ain't  fillin'." 

Memories  of  St.  Sulpice  returned  to  him. 
He  recalled  the  fact  that  his  one  object  in  life 
was  to  travel.  He  sneaked  out  of  the  railroad 
yards  and  made  his  way  to  the  sea  wall  against 
which  lay  ships  of  half  the  world. 

Marching  toward  him  came  a  battalion  of 
French  negro  soldiers.  aBoom-a-loom  nig 
gers,"  he  said  as  he  saw  the  curved  bayonets  on 
their  guns.  Having  nothing  better  to  do  he 
fell  in  step  beside  them,  seeking  concealment  in 
their  color. 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Wisht  Ah  could  talk  boom-a-loom.  Den 
Ah'd  be  wid  frien's."  One  of  the  Soldiers 
hauled  a  fragment  of  bread  from  his  pocket. 
The  Wildcat  invented  a  sign  language  on  the 
instant  and  a  moment  later  he  was  eating  the 
best  bread  fie  had  ever  tasted. 

"Sho'  is  gran'  bread,"  he  said  aloud.  One 
of  the  French  negroes  spoke  to  him  in  Eng 
lish.  "You  are  hungry?" 

"Ah'll  say  Ah  is.  Four  days  since  Ah  et. 
Boy,  how  come  you  talks  nach'ral  an'  not  dis 
boom-a-loom  talk?" 

"For  many  years,"  the  soldier  answered,  "I 
have  been  a  guide  for  white  men, — British 
hunters  of  lions." 

"Sho'  nuff.  Sho'  sounds  nach'ral.  Where 
at  is  you  headed  fo'  now?"  He  edged  over  and 
marched  beside  the  soldier  of  the  Senegal. 

"St.  Louis,"  the  soldier  replied. 

The  Wildcat  walked  along  in  silence  for 
quite  a  while.  "Ain't  'at  lucky?  Me,  I'se  sick 
of  France.  I'd  give  all  I'se  got  to  go  wid  you 
to  St.  Louis." 

"How  much?" 

The  Wildcat  remembered  his  financial  con 
dition.  "Ah  ain't  got  nuthin'  now.  Some  day 


THE  WILDCAT 


Ah  will  have.  St.  Louis  sho'  sounds  like 
Heaven  to  me." 

"In  the  front  lines  one  of  your  kind  saved 
my  life,"  the  Senegalese  replied.  "Follow  be 
side  me."  An  hour  later  the  Wildcat  was 
stowed  away  in  the  darkness  of  the  hold  of  the 
"Walata."  " 

At  dawn  the  ship  cleared  the  harbor  of  Mar 
seilles.  Two  days  later  she  steamed  through 
the  Strait  of  Gibraltar.  South  of  Portugal 
she  headed  into  the  Atlantic. 

"I  figgers  when  we  starts  upstream  fm 
N'O'leans,  I  unloads  at  Memphis,"  the  Wildcat 
reflected.  "St.  Louis  is  all  right,  but  it's  too 
far  No'th."  A  surge  of  triumph  suddenly  in^ 
spired  him.  "Hot  damn  boy!  Fse  Memphis 
boun'." 

After  a  seven-day  voyage  the  "Walata" 
landed.  The  Wildcat,  wearing  borrowed 
clothes  and  surrounded  by  Senegalese  troops 
marched  ashore.  Close  beside  him  was  the  ex- 
guide. 

"Sho'  is  hot  weather,"  the  Wildcat  re 
marked.  "I  never  see  such  a  crazy  lookin' 
town.  Whut's  de  name  of  dis  town  ?"  he  asked. 

[185] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  lion  hunter's  guide  looked  at  him  quickly 
without  reply. 

"At  morning,"  the  guide  said,  "we  move. 
Inland  there  is  food  in  abundance." 

"Sho'  suits  me,  boy,"  the  Wildcat  replied. 
"I  aims  to  drag  along  to  whah  de  grub  trees 
grows  heaviest." 

At  morning  the  Wildcat  and  his  companion 
headed  up  a  trail  which  followed  the  south 
bank  of  the  river.  At  noon,  perspiring  freely 
under  the  sun,  the  Wildcat  brought  up  the  sub 
ject  of  food.  "When  does  us  eat?"  he  in 
quired  loudly. 

The  lion  hunting  guide  looked  at  him.  "At 
Podor  we  camp." 

"That's  over  in  Arkansas,  ain't  it?" 

"Senegal,"  the  guide  corrected. 

"Sunny  Gal— how  come?"  The  Wildcat 
stopped.  "How  far  f'm  St.  Louis  is  us  right 
now?" 

"We  left  the  steamboat  at  St.  Louis,"  the 
guide  replied. 

The  Wildcat  felt  his  head  going  round  and 
round.  "Boy,"  he  said,  "where  in  hell  is  us 
at?" 

The  guide  of  lion  hunters  answered  him. 
[186] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"St.  Louis  is  the  capital  of  Senegal, — on  the 
West  coast  of  Africa." 

That  night,  in  the  heart  of  the  jungle,  the 
Wildcat  did  some  heavy  thinking.  "Lady 
Luck/'  he  prayed,  "git  right  or  else  lay  off  com 
plete.  Sunny  Gal!  Africa!  Wisht  ol'  Cap'n 
Jack  wuz  here !" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


The  Wildcat,  up  to  his  neck  in  Senegal,  had 
been  lured  to  an  African  doom  by  some  geog 
raphy  man  too  triflin'  to  think  up  any  new 
name  for  the  city  of  St.  Louis  on  the  African 
West  Coast.  He  looked  at  the  trail  which 
dived  into  the  jungle  ahead  of  him  and  figgered 
it  was  time  to  back  up. 

"Lady  Luck  sho'  is  cross-eyed.  She  aimed 
to  be  dirty,  she  pulled  de  trigger, — an'  heah  I 
is."  As  far  as  he  could  see  the  cards  of  Des 
tiny  were  so  gummed  up  that  no  matter  what 
turn  of  luck  might  switch  the  cut  the  stacked 
deck  would  still  guarantee  him  a  hundred  per 
cent  voodoo  record. 

The  party  of  discharged  French  Colonial 
troops  was  eating  their  evening  meal  on  the 
African  trail.  Seated  beside  the  Wildcat  was 
the  native  whose  experience  as  a  guide  of  big 
game  hunters  had  given  him  the  wildcat's  lan 
guage. 

From  the  distant  hilltops  there  came  the 
[188] 


THE  WILDCAT 


faint  moaning  of  a  war  drum.  The  guide  lis 
tened  for  a  moment.  He  rose  to  his  full  height. 
"Illy  maru  eeyah!"  He  addressed  the  group 
around  him.  "M'baou  tlk " 

"Hold  de  deal/'  the  Wildcat  interrupted. 
"Ball  Head,  what  ails  you?" 

The  guide  looked  down  at  him.  "The  tribal 
drums  are  sounding.  There  is  flesh  of  the  en 
emy  in  the  cooking  pots  to-night  among  my 
people  in  the  hills." 

"How  come?" 

"Those  whom  we  kill  we  eat/* 

"You  eats  folks!" 

"Even  so,"  the  guide  replied. 

The  Wildcat  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "Ball 

Head,"  he  said,  "the  more  you  is  at  home  the 

more  I  ain't.    Lily,  my  mascot,  she's  sunk  in 

Ide  ocean.    Ol'  Cap'n,  he's  home  in  Memphis. 

lLady  Luck,  she's  A.  W.  O.  L.     Me,— Ball 

Head,  Tse  much  'bliged  to  meet  you,  but  I 

leaves  you  now  before  we  gits  near  yo'  home 

rest'rant  where  you  eats  humans." 

.The  Wildcat  was  confronted  with  three  al 
ternatives.  He  had  the  choice  of  staying  where 
he  was  in  the  jungles  while  his  one  friend  and 
the  friendly  caravan  moved  on,  or  he  could  re- 


THE  WILDCAT 


turn  to  civilization  where  a  fatal  military  ver 
dict  awaited  with  open  arms  throughout  the 
A.  E.  F.,  or  he  could  accompany  the  caravan 
inland. 

"You  are  not  in  danger,"  the  guide  replied. 
"Only  the  enemy  is  eaten.  You  would  better 
accompany  us/' 

"What  does  this  here  enemy  live  on?"  the 
Wildcat  asked.  "No  suh,  Ball  Head,  I  riggers 
I'se  goin'  back.  His  calculations  were  inter 
rupted  by  a  large  mottled  green  tree  trunk 
which  glided  through  the  jungles  carrying  a 
head  on  the  front  end  of  it. 

"Ball  Head,  stan'  by  me— what's  'at!" 

"That  is  but  the  father  of  snakes,"  the  guide 
replied. 

"Boy,  hold  me !  Fo'  foot  snakes  is  tollable. 
Six  foot  snakes  I  hates.  When  dey  gits  oveh 
six  foot  mah  legs  acts  automatic."  The  Wild 
cat  decided  to  stick  with  the  gang,  at  least 
until  the  light  of  dawn  might  discover  unto 
him  the  trail  which  lay  to  the  seaport  town. 

"What  otheh  kind  of  boa'din'  house  is  you 
got  wheh  we're  gwine  'sides  dis  human  rest'- 
rant?"  he  asked. 

"For  each  warrior  there  are  a  dozen  wives," 
[190] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Ball  Head  informed  him.  "You  will  be  a  great 
warrior.  While  your  wounds  are  healing  your 
wives  bring  you  food." 

"How  come  dis  wound  business  ?" 

"War  is  perpetual  in  our  hills  and  the  spears 
of  the  enemy  are  sharp/' 

The  Wildcat  lay  back  and  groaned.  "Wuz 
hard  luck  a  dewdrop  I'se  de  Mississip' !"  With 
misery  selling  at  three  francs  a  ton  the  Wild 
cat  figured  he  had  a  million  dollars'  worth. 

"Does  you  go  out  wid  a  spear  you  comes 
home, — mebbe.  Mos'  likely  you  gits  et  up  or 
cut  up.  Does  you  come  home,  twelve  wives 
gits  you.  'At  woman  in  de'  boad'in'  house  at 
Memphis  led  me  a  dog's  life,  let  alone  twelve 
like  her.  I'll  head  where  de  res'  of  de  boys 
does,  'sides  them  what  fights  other  boys  an' 
them  whut  fights  the  twelve  wives." 

"The  rest  of  them,  except  for  the  children, 
are  hunters." 

"  'At's  a  job  I'd  like.  Always  did  love  to 
hunt  rabbits  an'  squirrels.  You  got  any  good 
houn'  dogs?" 

"The  yams  which  have  been  baking 
In  the  fire  of  damnable  wet  wood 
Are  ready  for  any  son  of  a  gun 


THE  WILDCAT 


With  pep  enough  in  him 
To  come  and  get  them." 

Thus  sang  the  yam  cooker  in  his  own  tongue. 

"Ball  Head,  whut  ails  'at  boy?" 

"He  announces  that  the  yams  are  ready  to 
be  eaten,"  Ball  Head  replied. 

"  'At's  me.  I'se  a  yam  eatin'  field  hand  f 'm 
way  back, — 'specially  wid  gravy.  Africa  ain't 
so  bad.  Is  they  lots  of  yams  ?" 

"More  than  the  men  of  the  tribe  can  eat," 
the  guide  replied. 

"Africa  ain't  so  bad,"  the  Wildcat  repeated. 
"Plenty  yams  an'  huntin'.  Sleep  mos'  all  de 
time.  How's  de  lodges — kin  a  boy  join  any 
good  fraternal  gatherin's?" 

"Each  of  the  hill  tribes  is  a  band  of  blood 
brothers." 

"  'At's  me.  Ah  figgers  Ah'll  'filiate  quick's 
I  lan's  at  yo'  home  town." 

The  night  built  a  wall  about  the  Wildcat  and 
presently,  with  the  past  forgotten,  his  mind 
sought  to  outline  the  schedule  for  the  days 
which  lay  ahead  of  him. 

"Fust  I  'filiates  wid  a  lodge.  Then  I  goes 
huntin'.  I  stays  huntin'  'til  I  gits  hungry.  I 
loads  myse'f  up  on  game  an'  I  weighs  down  de 
[192] 


THE  WILDCAT 


game  wid  yams.  Does  I  git  tired  huntin'  I 
gits  me  a  job  drivin'  a  automobile  o'  mebbe 
runnin'  a  street  car.  Sure  glad  Fse  out  of  de 
Army.  All  I'se  got  lef '  is  dese  pants  an'  dey's 
too  small  since  I  begun  eatin'  heavy." 

He  listened  to  the  night  noises  in  the  dense 
jungle  about  him.  "Me  scared  ?  I  guess  meb 
be  if  dese  otheh  boys  gits  by  I  kin.  Me,  I  sticks 
close  to  Ball  Head.  Lady  Luck,  whenever  you 
gits  th'oo  prancin'  roun',  here  I  is." 

He  called  to  the  guide.  "Ball  Head,  where 
at  kin  a  boy  git  a  drink  of  gin  or  mebbe  coon- 
yak?" 

Out  of  the  circle  of  firelight  the  guide  came 
walking  over  toward  him.  "In  our  hills  there 
are  no  such  things."  The  guide  fumbled  for 
a  moment  with  a  knot  of  his  loin  cloth.  "When 
the  hunter  is  tired,  when  the  great  hunter  is 
cold,  when  the  trail  has  been  long,  forgetful- 
ness  comes  with  the  magic  of  this  bean." 

He  extended  his  open  palm  toward  the  Wild 
cat.  In  it  lay  five  or  six  beans  the  size  of 
grains  of  corn.  "Take  one  of  them,"  the  guide 
said.  "Do  not  eat  more  than  half  of  it.  They 
are  very  potent." 

The  Wildcat  disdained  his  friend's  advice. 

[193] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"When  I  aims  to  git  jazzed  up  I  aims  to  git 
jazzed  up.  Give  me  dem  beans."  He  put  five 
of  the  beans  in  his  mouth  and  swallowed  them. 
Twenty  minutes  later,  still  going  strong,  the 
Wildcat  was  alone  by  the  campfire.  The  rest 
of  the  caravan  was  scattered  through  the 
jungle  at  safe  distances  from  the  bean  jazzed 
cyclone.  In  the  late  dawn  the  Wildcat  tamed 
down. 

"Come  on  heah,  boys.  Ah  don't  aim  to  hurt 
you."  One  by  one  he  managed  to  collect  his 
associates.  "Ball  Head,  how  many  more  of 
them  beans  you  got  ?" 

"At  the  village  there  is  a  storehouse  full." 
"How  many  more  is  you  got  wid  you  ?" 
"You  ate  them  all,"  the  guide  replied. 
The  Wildcat  looked  at  him.    "Let's  start  fo' 
de  sto'house  right  now." 


ii 

The  evidence  in  Captain  Jack's  case  showed 
that  he  had  deliberately  gone  over  the  ship's 
side  at  Paulliac  after  having  started  for  the 
United  States  under  orders  and  that  he  had 
been  A.  W.  O.  L.  for  a  good  many  days  be- 
[194] 


THE  WILDCAT 


fore  the  dragnet  in  Paris  finally  landed  him  in 
the  guardhouse.  The  judge  advocate  lived  up 
to  the  technical  demands  of  his  office  and  when 
he  finished  with  Captain  Jack  that  officer's  fu 
ture  was  festooned  with  a  ball  and  chain  and 
iron  bars. 

"Sure  to  be  ten  years — maybe  twenty.  I'm 
hooked  for  desertion.  Fine  chance  I  have  of 
getting  out  of  this  case." 

i 

in 

Unquestionably  the  Senator,  in  affairs  of 
state  was  the  greatest  single-handed  performer 
in  the  known  world. 

"But.  my  God,  Conway,  my  God!"  he 
barked  at  his  secretary.  "What  can  you  do 
dealin'  these  damn  countries  around  when  you 
have  a  female  offspring  on  the  verge  of  deli 
rium  tremens  because  some  damn  fiance  of  an 
army  captain  has  lost  himself  in  this  A.  E.  F. 
shuffle.  Cable  the  Adjutant-General.  Get  the 
State  Department  busy.  See  if  you  can  trail 
him  down  and  if  you  can,  have  him  bound  hand 
and  foot  and  delivered  at  the  hotel." 

Some  hours  later,  in  the  Adjutant-General's 

[195] 


THE  WILDCAT 


office  at  Washington  the  wandering  boy  in 
quiries  were  received,  and  immediately  became 
a  part  of  the  great  sea  of  unfinished  business. 
With  greater  simplicity  and  more  direct  frank 
ness  the  clerk  at  the  State  Department  filed 
copies  of  similar  cablegrams  which  he  had  re 
ceived  in  the  bottom,  of  a  large  wicker  waste- 
basket. 


[196] 


CHAPTER  XIX 


"Ball  Head,  whut  is  dem  varmints  runnin' 
round  on  de  hills  ?"  The  Wildcat,  at  the  head 
of  a  marching  caravan,  pointed  toward  an  open 
space  in  the  jungle  through  which  rose  the 
great  hills  that  lay  about  the  valley  of  Ball 
Head's  tribe. 

•"Goats,"  the  guide  replied.  "Food  for 
women.  They  must  not  be  eaten  by  warriors 
such  as  you  and  me." 

The  Wildcat  thought  of  Lily.  "Once  I  had 
a  mascot  goat.  Neveh  could  figger  did  she 
bring  me  good  luck  or  bad.  Good  or  bad  she 
sho'  got  drownded  when  me  an'  de  fire  depart 
ment  sunk  in  de  river  at  St.  Sulpice." 

But  in  this  instance  the  Wildcat  had  the 
wrong  dope.  Lily,  at  the  moment,  was  enjoying 
the  companionship  of  the  crew  on  board  the 
S.S.  "Texan"  whose  lookout  some  weeks  be 
fore  had  spotted  the  swimming  goat  in  the 
Gironde.  In  the  Wildcat's  vocabulary,  "Lily 
was  doin'  noble,  eatin'  heavy  an'  sleepin'  mos' 

[197] 


THE  WILDCAT 


all  de  time."  As  protege  of  the  crew  of  the 
"Texan"  she  had  a  mascot's  job  what  was  a 
job. 

II 

M.  Gromont,  Assistant  Chef  de  Service, 
Bureau  of  Postes  and  Telegraphs,  anointed 
himself  internally  with  a  couple  of  quarts  of 
Vang  Red  and  finished  his  luncheon  with  an 
omelette  souffle,  two  pounds  of  grapes,  con 
siderable  cheese,  and  a  slug  of  cognac  so  old 
it  was  feeble. 

"Voila!"  That  was  done.  He  returned  to 
his  desk  in  the  French  telegraph  office.  A  fat 
young  woman  in  a  long  gingham  apron  pointed 
disdainfully  at  an  accumulation  of  cablegrams 
which  had  been  received  during  M.  Gromont's 
absence. 

"The  money  for  these?"  the  assistant  chief 
questioned. 

"Locked  in  the  little  drawer." 

"Very  well,  my  dear.  There  is  a  franc.  You 
may  go  to  lunch." 

The  young  woman  left  the  office. 

Monsieur  Gromont  unlocked  the  little  drawer 
where  the  money  received  in  payment  for  the 


THE  WILDCAT 


cablegrams  had  been  put.  He  transferred 
these  funds  to  his  own  pocket  after  which  he 
shuffled  through  the  messages  which  had  been 
filed. 

"Aha!  The  Premier  of  England!  wishes  to 
know, — immediate  response  requested.  Poin- 
caire  and  the  State  Department  and  the 
Secret  Service  and  the  Associated  Press  dis 
patches — — "  He  dumped  the  entire  pile  into 
the  waste  basket.  "Those, — they  are  worth  a 
franc  per  hundred  kilos  as  old  paper.  Other 
wise  they  are  worthless." 

in 

Meanwhile  in  his  prison  Captain  Jack  con 
tinued  to  feel  like  the  devil  while  two  miles 
away  from  him  in  her  apartments  the  Senator's 
she-girl  daughter  swore  softly  in  good  old 
United  States  and  clenched  a  little  fist  that 
should  have  carried  a  couple  of  karats  of  car 
bon  crystal  at  the  very  least. 

IV 

"Ball  Head,  what's  dat  smoke?"  At  the 
head  of  a  narrow  valley  the  Wildcat's  keen  eye 

[199] 


THE  WILDCAT 


saw  a  wisp  of  gray  against  the  blue  haze  of  the 
African  afternoon.  The  guide  stared  at  it  in 
tently  for  a  moment. 

"It  is  the  village  of  our  tribe/'  he  said  to  the 
the  Wildcat.  He  called  a  command  back  over 
the  marching  line  and  pointed  into  the  distance. 
Immediately  all  the  members  of  the  caravan 
joined  in  a  great  uproar. 

"Glad  to  git  home,"  the  Wildcat  said  to  him 
self.  "Can't  see  as  I  blames  'em.  Wisht  I 
could  see  de  smoke  of  Memphis." 

"It  is  the  fires  the  women  have  lighted,"  the 
guide  said  to  him.  "There  will  be  feasting  this 
night."  The  caravan  moved  on  and  late  that 
night  in  the  moonlight  they  marched  between 
the  voodoo  posts  which  marked  the  edge  of  the 
village.  Half-naked  figures  were  dancing 
about  the  great  fire  which  burned  in  the  center 
of  a  group  of  huts.  For  an  hour  or  two  the 
Wildcat  felt  pretty  well  alone  in  the  pandemon 
ium  which  reigned  about  him  and  then  the 
guide  sought  him  out. 

"Yams  and  the  meat  of  elephant."  He  gave 
the  Wildcat  a  clay  bowl.  "Come  and  eat." 

"Elephant  meat  I  don't  crave,  but  yams 
sounds  good."  The  Wildcat  absorbed  his  ra- 
[200] 


THE  WILDCAT 


tions  with  an  enthusiasm  prompted  by  long 
hours  on  the  trail. 

"After  you  finish,"  the  guide  said  to  them, 
"there  is  an  enemy  worthy  of  your  courage  on 
the  trail  below  here.  A  man-eating  lion  has 
carried  off  five  men  from  the  village  above  us. 
He  is  expected  here  to-night.  Here  is  a  spear. 
I  will  show  you  where  to  stand  so  you  can  kill 
him.  You  have  claimed  to  be  a  great  hunter, 
Thus  do  the  gods  afford  you  amusement/' 

En  route  to  the  place  of  the  kill  the  Wildcat's 
bulging  eyes  fixed  upon  a  ceremony  in  which  a 
group  of  forty  natives  were  engaged.  "How 
come  dat  ruckus  over  dere,  Ball  Head?"  he 
inquired. 

"A  lodge  brother  is  being  initiated  into  the 
First  Order  of  Hunters,"  the  guide  replied. 
The  Wildcat  thought  of  his  rendezvous  with 
the  man-eating  lion.  A  first-class  initiation 
into  a  good  lodge  appealed  to  him  considerably 
more  than  offering  a  jungle  beast  the  oppor 
tunity  of  scattering  his  insides  here  and  there 
through  the  tropical  foliage.  He  was  not  long 
in  stating  his  preference. 

"What  I  craves  mos'  is  to  join  de  Lodge." 

"Even  so,"  the  guide  replied.  "The  lion  will 

[201] 


THE  WILDCAT 


wait."  They  approached  near  to  the  place 
where  the  candidate  was  getting  his  third  de 
gree.  A  priest  whose  headdress  obscured  all 
of  his  face  except  his  gleaming  eyes  was  doing 
the  spring  plowing  in  the  candidate's  chest  with 
a  long,  keen  knife.  From  the  diagonal  scars 
which  opened  in  the  flesh  behind  the  blade  of 
the  knife,  blood  flowed. 

"Following  this,  the  tribal  marks  will  be  cut 
deep  into  the  face  of  the  candidate/'  the  guide 
told  him. 

"Ball  Head,  give  me  some  more  of  dem  jazz 
beans.  Ah  feels  triflin'."  The  guide  left  him 
and  presently  returned  with  a  handful  of  the 
invigorating  beans. 

The  Wildcat  took  one  of  them.  Before  it 
reacted  on  him  he  spoke.  "Give  me  the  res'  of 
dem  beans.  I  figgers  I'll  go  out  an'  argue  wid 
de  lion.  Some  night  next  week  I'll  join  de 
Lodge.  Dese  boys  seems  busy  right  now." 

"As  you  prefer,"  the  guide  said.  He  handed 
the  Wildcat  a  great  handful  of  the  jazz  beans. 
"Bring  your  spear  and  follow  me." 

At  a  lonely  post  in  a  great  cave  of  darkness 
where  the  filtering  rays  of  moonlight  served 
[202] 


THE  WILDCAT 


only  to  accentuate  the  gloom  about  him  the 
Wildcat  halted. 

"After  midnight  the  prowling  beast  will 
probably  walk  down  this  trail.  One  stroke 
must  finish  him, — but  it  is  needless  to  advise  a 
great  hunter  like  yourself." 

"Ball  Head,  leave  it  to  me,"  the  Wildcat  said. 
He  put  a  couple  of  jazz  beans  into  his  mouth. 
"To-morrow  us  has  lion  meat  fo'  breakfast." 
The  guide  left  him. 

"Mebbe  us  has  lion  meat  fo'  breakfast,"  the 
Wildcat  amended.  He  laid  the  spear  down 
quickly  and  then  in  the  fading  moonlight  he 
stalked  straight  for  the  trail  which  led  down 
river. 

Better  a  thousand  times  a  military  finish 
than  one  in  which  a  boy's  insides  would  be 
clawed  out  by  a  man-eatin'  lion.  The  Wildcat 
took  another  bean. 

"Does  dese  beans  hold  out,  'at  lion  will  sure 
have  to  go  some  to  ketch  me."  He  loped  down 
the  trail  until  his  pathway  was  suddenly  ob 
structed  by  a  huge  bulk  which  writhed  and 
thrashed  about  in  the  darkness.  The  moon 
showed  clear  for  a  moment.  It  revealed  to 
the  Wildcat's  bulging  eyes  a  snake  something 

[203] 


THE  WILDCAT 


less  than  a  mile  long  from  whose  distended 
mouth  protruded  half  the  body  of  an  antelope. 

The  Wildcat  forgot  about  the  jazz  beans  in 
his  pocket.  He  dived  deep  into  the  jungle  be 
side  the  trail  and  hid  his  head  away  from  the 
terror  which  lay  before  him. 

On  the  instant  that  the  image  of  the  great 
snake  was  blotted  from  his  vision  thirty  pounds 
of  something  active  and  four-legged  dropped 
from  a  tree  above  and  landed  on  the  Wildcat's 
shoulders.  "Lawd  Gawd,  Lady  Luck,  where 
at  is  you?"  In  his  panic  everything  was  for 
gotten  except  the  clinging  menace  between  his 
shoulder  blades.  He  galloped  down  the  trail 
hurdling  the  boa-constrictor  and  its  prey. 

"Jazz  beans,"  he  prayed,  "stan'  by  me."  The 
monkey  on  his  back  chattered  madly  to  a  troupe 
of  its  brothers  whose  eyes  gleamed  in  the  jungle 
beside  the  galloping  Wildcat. 

"This  one  way  business  is  all  right,"  the 
monkey  reflected,  "but  I  don't  like  to  walk 
back."  The  Wildcat's  passenger  leaped  from 
the  surging  shoulders  beneath  him. 

At  dawn,  with  his  tongue  hanging  out  a  mile, 
the  Wildcat  eased  his  pace  and  when  a  familiar 
stretch  of  the  river  lay  before  him  he  paused 
[204] 


THE  WILDCAT 


long  enough  to  roll  a  log  down  the  bank.  He 
swam  to  the  log,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  the 
houses  of  the  African  coast  town  lay  before 
him. 

He  drifted  into  the  bay  and  thirty  minutes 
later  he  was  being  hauled  over  the  side  of  a 
cutter  which  had  swung  away  from  the  U.  S. 
Destroyer  Graykill.  Aboard  the  destroyer  the 
Wildcat  heard  English  spoken  by  white  men 
for  the  first  time  in  many  days.  It  sounded 
good  to  his  ears. 

"Boy,  you  say  dis  boat's  boun'  fo'  Bo'd- 
eaux?" 

"Bordeaux,  La  Havre  and  then  across  the 
Channel." 

"Me,  I  unloads  at  Bo'deaux."  The  Wild 
cat,  in  his  gratitude  at  getting  some  place 
where  white  folks  was,  resolved  to  accept  what 
ever  fate  might  await  him  at  the  hands  of  the 
military  avengers  of  Base  Section  Number  2. 

Three  days  later  the  Wildcat  walked  up  the 
stone  quay  at  Bordeaux.  He  headed  for  the 
Alices  de  Tourny.  "Boun'  to  meet  some  boy 
theh — some  boy  I  knows/' 

An  M.  P.  hailed  him.  "Get  out  of  town  by 

[205] 


THE  WILDCAT 


twelve  o'clock.     She's  a  closed  burg  in  the 
afternoon." 

Again  the  old  fear  of  the  law  surged  over 
him.  His  feet  ted  him  down  the  Rue  St/ 
Catherine  and  presently  between  the  Midi  Sta 
tion  and  the  railway  bridge  across  the  Garonne 
he  flipped  a  run  down  rattling  little  wreck  of 
a  freight  train.  The  Wildcat  hoped  that  mebbe 
he  was  headed  toward  Lady  Luck.  He  felt 
that  he  was  starting  out  in  life  with  a  fresh 
deal.  His  capital  consisted  of  a  pair  of  over 
worked  dice,  his  discharge  papers,  and  a  hand 
ful  of  the  jazz  beans. 

Softly  to  a  cadence  of  flat  wheels,  high  cen 
ters  and  low  joints,  he  sang : 

"I  kin  ride  a  freight  train,  I  don't  pay  no  fare, 
I  kin  ride  a  freight  train  mos'  anywhere. 

Dat's  de  reason  I'se  happy  as  a  bee 

I  don't  botheh  work,  work  don't  botheh  me/' 


[206] 


CHAPTER  XX 


In  the  outskirts  of  Paris,  the  Wildcat  ate 
himself  a  jazz  bean  and  got  sassy  with  an  M.  P. 
"Mebbe  I  got  military  bearing  boy/'  he  said. 
"Mebbe  dese  spiral  leggin's  is  mil'tary.  Meb 
be  I  got  mil'tary  pants,  mebbe  I  looks  mil'tary 
to  you,  but  me  an'  de  Army  got  a  divo'ce  a 
long  time " 

Whang!  A  quick  swing  with  a  loaded  club 
tamed  the  military  Wildcat  considerably. 

"Yessuh!    What  you  says,  I  does." 

"Come  on  with  me  and  shut  up."  The  M.  P. 
wandered  across  the  freight  yards  to  the  tele 
phone  booth.  He  rang  headquarters.  "A.  W. 
O.  L.  nigger.  I'll  hold  him  until  you  come." 

An  hour  later,  the  Wildcat  dragged  his  re 
mains  through  the  portal  of  the  guardhouse  in 
Paris.  "One  thing  sure,"  he  reflected,  "I  eats. 
An'  that's  the  best  news  my  stummik's  heard 
for  a  week." 

Mess  call  sounded.  The  Wildcat  and  a  long 
line  of  victims  of  his  color  formed  in  the  bull 

[207]  • 


THE  WILDCAT 


pen.  Forty  feet  away  was  a  similar  line  of 
white  soldiers,  and  beyond  them,  a  small  and 
more  select  aggregation  of  spur-wearing  offi 
cers. 

A  unit  of  this  Sam  Browne  group,  looking 
about  him,  saw  the  Wildcat. 

"Wildcat,"  he  called,  "come  here!"  He 
turned  to  the  Sergeant  of  the  guard  near  him. 
"I  want  to  speak  to  that  nigger  a  minute." 

The  Wildcat  heard  an  old  familiar  voice. 
"Cap'n,  yessuh !"  he  replied  instinctively.  He 
looked  around  him,  and  in  an  instant  his  eyes 
fell  upon  his  former  commanding  officer.  Cap 
tain  Jack  looked  considerably  run  down. 

"Sho'  is  proud  to  see  you,  Cap'n.  Looks  like 
dese  triflin'  cooks  ain't  fed  you  much.  You's 
thin.  Lem'me  bring  you  a  mess  kit  f'm  de 
otheh  line.  Dey  feeds  heavy  over  whah  us 
boys  is.  Cap'n,  how  come  you  heah  ?" 

Before  Captain  Jack  could  reprimand  the 
Wildcat  for  his  impertinent  curiosity,  a  ser 
geant  of  the  guard  stepped  up  to  the  Wildcat 
and  addressed  him.  "Are  you  Vitus  Mars- 
den?" 

"  'At's  me,"  the  Wildcat  said. 

"Beat  it.  We  can't  hold  you.  The  records 
[208] 


THE  WILDCAT 


show  you  were  discharged  from  the  Army  five 
weeks  ago.  Get  out !" 

"Sahgeant,  'at's  what  I  tol'  'at  boy,  but  he 
sapped  me  oveh  de  head  an'  brought  me  heah. 
Me,  I  looks  military,  but " 

A  sudden  spark  of  hope  burned  in  Captain 
Jack's  heart.  "When  you  get  out,  Wildcat, 
hunt  up  Senator  Benton  and  tell  him  I  am, 
here." 

-'Cap'n,  suh,  you  mean  Judge  Sam  what  was 
in  the  State  House  when  yo'  pappy  was  gov'- 
neh?" 

"I  mean  Judge  Sam.  He  is  in  Paris.  Find 
him  and  tell  him  I  am  here." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  left  the 
guardhouse  one  meal  ahead  of  the  game.  On 
his  way  out,  he  accumulated  a  pretty  fair  look 
ing  overseas  cap  and  a  blouse  that  was  hanging 
on  the  wall. 

"Ah  looks  all  run  down.  Dese  army  clothes 
belong  to  some  boy  'at  kin  git  more  f  m  ol' 
supply  sahgeant."  Three  blocks  from  the 
guardhouse  the  Wildcat  festooned  the  new 
blouse  about  his  military  bearing.  He  looked 
at  the  chevrons  on  the  sleeve  of  the  blouse. 

"Ah  see  I'se  a  sahgeant  again.  Wisht  I 

[209] 


THE  WILDCAT 


could  git  me  a  coat  wid  bars  on  the  shouldeh. 
Sahgeant  beats  nuthin'  though." 

ii 

In  front  of  one  of  the  cafes  on  the  Boulevard 
the  Wildcat  forgot  that  his  present  object  in 
life  was  to  find  the  Senator.  Inside  the  cafe, 
on  a  little  stage,  a  pair  of  languid  Jamaica 
dancers  were  doing  the  best  they  could  to  agi 
tate  the  dust  under  their  feet  with  a  soft  shoe 
performance. 

At  the  conclusion  of  their  efforts  the  Wild 
cat,  still  going  a  million  under  the  surge  of  the 
potent  jazz  bean  which  he  had  eaten,  gave  his 
itching  feet  permission  to  see  what  they  could 
do.  At  first  his  steps  synchronized  with  the 
cadence  of  Casey  Jones.  Presently,  having 
exhausted  his  repertoire  of  funeral  music,  he 
kicked  into  some  steps  in  which  the  spark  of 
life  still  flamed. 

Halfway  through  this  intermediate  move 
ment,  he  crunched  his  teeth  down  on  one  of  the 
jazz  beans  and  then  in  the  resulting  tornado  of 
foot  work  he  became  conscious  of  a  cyclonic 
crescendo  of  applause  which  swelled  about  him. 
[210] 


THE  WILDCAT 


He  heard  the  chink  of  silver  coins  falling  at  his 
feet.  He  stopped  suddenly  and  accumulated 
his  winnings  which  lay  thick  about  him. 

"Fifty-five,  sixty,  eighty,  a  hundred.  Hun- 
d'ed  an'  seven !"  He  made  his  way  grandly  to 
a  table  at  which  there  was  a  vacant  seat. 
"Easy  come,  easy  go.  Is  you  got  any  high- 
toned  drinks?" 

The  waiter,  trained  to  but  one  reply,  an 
swered  him.  "Voila,  M'sieur." 

Presently  the  waiter  returned  with  a  quart 
of  champagne.  At  the  popping  of  the  cork  the 
Wildcat's  chest  extended  another  foot.  The 
proprietor  of  the  cafe  hurried  toward  him. 

"M'sier  Nagur,  for  three  dances,  afternoon 
and  evening,  two  hundred  francs  a  day !" 

The  suddenness  of  the  transaction  left  the 
Wildcat  a  little  in  doubt.  "You  mean  you  pays 
me  two  hund'ed  francs  for  burnin'  mah  foot 
six  times  ?" 

The  discussion  of  the  contract  was  inter 
rupted.  Senator  Benton  stood  before  the 
Wildcat.  The  Wildcat  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"Judge,  suh,  'scuse  me  fo'  sittin'  down  whilst 
you  is  standin'.  How  is  you  ?  Ah  ain't  seed  yo' 
since  befor'  de  wah  begun  back  in " 

[211] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Come  along  here."  The  Senator  spoke 
briefly. 

"Judge,  yessuh." 

The  Wildcat  left  his  champagne  untouched, 
left  his  two  hundred  francs  a  day,  left  the 
bright  lights  and  followed  a  voice  which  he  had 
known.  For  a  little  while  the  Senator  ques 
tioned  him  and  then  in  a  breath  he  fixed  the 
Wildcat's  immediate  future. 

•"I  am  here  on  this  Peace  Congress  business. 
I  want  you  to  take  care  of  me  as  long  as  we 
are  in  France.  I  will  take  you  with  me  when 
I  go  back." 

"Judge,  yessuh.  Sho'  is  gran'  to  meet  up 
wid  yo'.  Sho'  is  proud  to  take  care  of  yo'. 
'Ceptin'  when  I  gits  back — Cap'n  Jack  needs 
me  when  I  gits  back  at  Memphis." 

At  the  mention  of  Captain  Jack's  name,  the 
Senator  exhibited  a  wide-eyed  interest.  "Son, 
where  do  you  suppose  Captain  Jack  is  now?" 

"Last  I  seed  him  he  was  standin'  in  de  mess 
line  oveh"  at  de  guardhouse." 

"What  guardhouse?  Here  in  Paris  do  you 
mean?" 

"Judge,  yessuh.  Place  whah  at  de  backslid 
[212] 


THE  WILDCAT 


officehs  goes  when  dey  ketches  'em  A.  W.  O. 
Loose." 

The  Senator  stepped  into  a  taxicab.  "Sit  on 
the  front  seat  with  the  man.  Tell  him  to  drive 
to  Paris  Headquarters,  A.  E.  F." 

"Judge,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  turned  to  the 
chauffeur.  "Boy,  ramble.  Headquarters 
A.  E.  F." 

The  chauffer  looked  at  him.    "Como?" 

"Start  quick  or  Ah'll  'com,o'  you.  Me  an'  de 
Judge  wants  to  go  where  at  the  mil'tary  gen 
erals  is."  The  chauffeur  took  a  long  chance 
and  guessed  right. 

An  hour  later  an  order  had  issued  paroling 
Captain  Jack  until  his  case  could  come  up  for 
rehearing.  In  brief,  as  far  as  his  military  con 
finement  was  concerned,  his  troubles  were 
over.  Leaving  headquarters  the  Wildcat  car 
ried  the  Senator's  coat.  He  fell  in  three  paces 
behind  him  and  thus  they  marched  to  the  Sen 
ator's  hotel. 

The  next  day  in  the  offices  of  the  American 
delegates  the  Wildcat  was  officially  installed 
as  the  Senator's  messenger.  In  reality  he 
functioned  as  a  continuous  vaudeville  per 
formance  for  the  Senator  and  his  associates  in 

[213] 


THE  WILDCAT 


the  great  rooms  where  big  men  and  little  were 
adjusting  the  past,  present  and  future  states 
of  little  nations  and  big  ones. 

After  a  few  days  there  were  moments  when 
the  Wildcat  found  time  hanging  heavily  on 
his  hands.  He  tried  in  vain  to  interest  the 
French  servants  in  the  business  of  toying  with 
the  risk  cubes.  "Boy,  let  me  show  you."  He 
produced  the  baby  gallopers  from  his  watch 
pocket. 

"You  lays  down  five  francs.  You  speaks  to 
"em  gentle.  Yo'  agitates  'em.  Yo'  lets  'em 
ramble.  Whang!  an'  they  reads  seven.  Yo' 
wins  five  francs." 

"Zis  is  not  ze  same  as  roulette."  The 
French  messenger  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"It  is  not  interesting." 

"What's  dis  roulette?" 

"Ze  wheel  wiz  numbers.  Ze  leetle  ball  spins. 
You  lay  five  francs.  Voila!  Ze  five  francs  is 
lost." 

"You  play  de  losin'  games.  Leave  me  de 
baby  cubes  an'  Lady  Luck,  I  sho'  craves 
action." 

For  a  period  of  ten  days  the  Wildcat  lived  a 
prosaic  life  in  which  gambling  had  no  part, 


THE  WILDCAT 


and  then  one  day,  no  longer  able  to  endure  a 
riskless  career  he  took  a  piece  of  chalk  and 
numbered  the  six  blades  of  the  electric  fan 
which  whirled  above  the  Senator's  desk.  It 
was  early  morning  and  except  for  a  small  group 
of  minor  French  employees  and  himself  the 
offices  were  deserted. 

On  the  back  of  the  number  three  blade,  op 
posite  the  six,  the  Wildcat,  unobserved,  stuck 
a  wad  of  denatured  chewing  gum.  "Ah  craves 
to  gum  up  de  game  a  little.  It  helps  de  per 
centage/' 

He  addressed  the  audience.  "Frogs — rally 
roun'.  You  boys  claims  you  knows  roulette. 
Ah'll  roulette  you  some." 

He  pointed  to  the  fan.  "Bets  five  francs  on 
de  six."  The  bystanders  were  quick  to  as 
similate  this  new  diversion.  .  .  .  The  Sena 
tor  came  in  at  ten  o'clock  just  as  the  Wildcat 
was  counting  his  accumulated  winnings. 

"Run  these  Frenchmen  out  of  here,  son,"  the 
Senator  ordered.  "Tell  that  major  out  there 
in  charge  of  these  troops  I  want  to  see  him  a 
minute." 

The  Major  came  in.  "The  Diplomat  and  the 
Great  Man  will  be  here  any  minute  now,"  the 


THE  WILDCAT 


Senator  said.  "I  don't  know  what  military 
honors  they  get.  .That's  your  business.  .  I 
want  you  to  do  just  one  thing.  Keep  the  news 
papermen  away  until  after  this  meeting  is 
ended  and  keep  the  crowds  back.  Tell  the 
newspapermen  I  will  see  them  at  noon/' 

Prompted  by  an  instinct  which  he  could  not 
define,  the  major  commanding  the  guard  of 
honor  saluted  this  civilian  before  he  left  the 
Senator's  office. 

Twelve  minutes  later  the  two  great  men  had 
been  greeted  by  the  Senator.  One  of  them 
looked  at  the  Senator  and  nodded  toward  the 
Wildcat. 

"This  man  ?"  he  questioned. 

"An  ignorant  nigger — my  personal  servant." 
.The  Wildcat  withdrew  to  one  corner  of  the 
room  where  for  a  while  he  watched  the  two 
white  gentlemen  who  were  speaking  in  low 
voices  with  Senator  Sam. 

Presently  the  Wildcat's  head  drooped  and 
he  was  asleep. 

He  was  awakened  a  few  moments  later  by 
the  Senator.  "Son  if  you  have  any  dice  with 
you  let  me  have  them.  I  want  your  dice  or  a 
deck  of  cards." 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Senator  turned  to  his  two  associates. 
"We  are  men  of  action.  Long  winded  debates 
make  no  hit  with  me.  The  quickest  way  to 
settle  this  deadlock  is  to  shake  dice  for  it  or 
cut  the  cards/' 

"Agreed."    The  Diplomat  spoke  quickly. 

In  the  eyes  of  the  other  great  man  there 
flashed  a  twinkle  of  amused  consent.  "Imprac 
tical,"  he  said.  "Especially  the  dice  business. 
Not,  however,  that  I  suspect  the  Senator. 
Roulette  might " 

The  Wildcat  handed  the  Senator  the  baby 
gallopers.  "Judge,  they  sevens  strong,"  he 
whispered.  The  Senator  handed  them  back  to 
him.  "We  won't  use  them.  Have  you  got 
any  cards?" 

"Judge,  no  suh."  The  Wildcat  got  the  rou 
lette  suggestion  made  by  the  great  man.  "On 
dull  days  us  boys  roulettes  wid  de  'lectric  fan." 

"Not  bad."  The  Senator  pointed  to  the  elec 
tric  fan  above  his  head.  He  addressed  his  two 
associates.  "Six  bladed  roulette,  if  you  are 
agreeable."  The  Diplomat  nodded  his  head. 
This  was  a  game  he  understood. 

The  other  smiled.  "Quite  so,"  he  said.  The 
Senator  turned  to  the  Wildcat.  "Start  this  fan 

[217] 


THE  WILDCAT 


when  we  tell  you  to.  Shut  her  off  and  let  her 
whirl  when  either  of  these  gentlemen  gives  you 
the  word." 

The  Wildcat  reached  for  the  switch  and 
stood  ready  to  function  as  Fate's  assistant  en 
gineer.  "We  shall  each  select  a  number/'  the 
Great  Man  said.  "It  is  understood  that  the 
policies  of  the  winner  shall  obtain  in  each  de 
bated  instance  without  further  argument. 

The  Senator  nodded.    "You  said  it." 

"I  agree."  The  Diplomat  relaxed.  "In  the 
matter  of  Jugo-Slavia  we  are  at  variance 
on "  he  began. 

"I  play  the  one-spot,"  the  Great  Man  inter 
rupted.  "Unity  of  empire." 

"Liberty,  Equality,  Fraternity,"  quoted  the 
Diplomat.  "The  great  triumvirate.  I  select 
number  three." 

The  Wildcat  remembered  the  wad  of  gum 
which  adhered  to  one  of  the  blades  of  the  fan. 
"Fo'  a  killin',  Judge,  I  advises  de  six." 

"I  shall  play  the  six,"  the  Senator  an 
nounced.  "Shoot." 

For  the  space  of  forty  minutes  the  fate  of 
nations  swayed  with  the  swing  of  the  Wild 
cat's  wrist  upon  the  electric  switch. 
[218] 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  session  ended.  The  Great  Man  stag 
gered  to  his  feet  and  extended  his  hand.  "I 
congratulate  you,  Senator.  You  can  report 
complete  success — except  in  the  detail  of  Meso 
potamia." 

The  Diplomat  applied  a  delicate  linen  hand 
kerchief  to  his  perspiring  brow.  He  relapsed 
into  his  native  language. 

"Mon  Dieu !"  he  said.  "In  thirty  minutes  we 
have  accomplished  those  things  for  which  the 
statesmen  of  the  world  have  struggled  in  vain 
throughout  a  period  of  five  months.  Diable! 
Not  once  did  I  win." 

The  Senator  escorted  his  visitors  to  the  door 
of  his  office.  As  they  left  the  building,  long 
lines  of  soldiers  executed  sudden  and  violent 
military  honors. 

Inside  the  Senator's  office  the  Wildcat  looked 
at  Judge  Sam.  "  'Scuse  de  compliment,  Judge 
— Ah'll  say  you  cleaned  up  big  whateveh  it 


was." 


The  Senator  smiled  at  the  Wildcat. 
"Damndest  run  of  luck  I  had  since  that  poker 
game  in  Vicksburg." 

" Judge,  suh,  or  chewin'  gum  percentage  sho' 
done  noble." 

[219] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"The  what !" 

The  Wildcat  reached  up  and  removed  the 
ball  of  gum  from  the  blade  of  the  fan. 

The  Senator  fell  back  in  his  chair.  "When 
did  you  load  that  fan?" 

"Judge,  suh,  me  an'  Lady  Luck  had  to  am 
putate  dese  frogs  loose  from  dey  triflin'  francs. 
Ah  fixed  de  wheel  when " 

Heavily  and  silently  the  Judge  began  to 
laugh. 

"Tell  the  guard  at  the  door  that  I  will  see 
the  newspaper  gentlemen  now/'  he  said.  "Give 
me  that  gum." 

The  Wildcat  handed  the  Senator  the  little 
ball  of  chewing  gum.  "Judge,  yessuh." 

Thirty  minutes  later  the  press  wires  re 
vealed  the  outcome  of  long  months  of  deliber 
ation  on  the  part  of  the  Peace  Congress. 


[220] 


CHAPTER  XXI 

As  the  Senator  and  the  Wildcat  left  the  of 
fice  they  were  confronted  by  Captain  Jack.  "I 
want  to  speak  with  you,  sir.  Come  back  to 
your  office  with  me." 

The  Senator  smiled  at  the  impetuous  officer. 
"Inasmuch  as  my  incapable  shoulders  are  at 
the  moment  bowing  beneath  a  load  of  respon 
sibility  greater  than  Old  Man  Atlas " 

"Regular  orating  politician — my  troubles 
would  make  two  loads  for  Atlas.  Ill  only  keep 
you  a  minute." 

Followed  by  the  Wildcat,  the  Senator  and 
Captain  Jack  entered  the  Senator's  office.  The 
Senator  looked  at  Captain  Jack.  "Shoot,"  he 
said. 

Captain  Jack  took  a  deep  breath.  ''Your 
Lady  Daughter" — he  began,  "Your  Lady 
Daughter  has  just  promised  to  marry  me  at 
once.  Here  in  Paris." 

The  Senator  was  silent. 

"It's  up  to  you  to  arrange  the  details — I'm 

[221] 


THE  WILDCAT 


crazy.      I'm    getting   crazier    every    second." 

The  Senator  looked  long  at  Captain  Jack. 
Finally  he  smiled.  "No  more  oats,  Jackie? 
No  more  wild  days?" 

"You  know  the  blood,  sir,"  Captain  Jack 
said. 

The  Senator  put  his  arm  about  the  boy's 
shoulders.  "Happiness  be  with  you.  Where 
do  we  go  from  here?"  He  turned  to  the  Wild 
cat.  "Bring  me  my  coat." 

"And  after  it's  over,"  Captain  Jack  con 
fided,  "the  Lady  Girl  and  I  are  going  home 
where  the  mockin'  birds  and  magnolias  are — 
and  live  forever  and  ever." 

The  Wildcat  could  restrain  himself  no 
longer.  "Cap'n  Jack,  suh,"  he  said,  "when 
does  us  leave?" 

The  Senator  turned  to  him  quickly.  "Who 
in  hell  do  you  think  you  belong  to?"  he  said. 

The  Wildcat  faced  the  place  of  decision.  He 
hesitated  only  an  instant.  "Judge,  suh,  I  'spect 
I'se  Cap'n  Jack's  boy." 

The  Judge  looked  at  him.  "What  do  you 
mean  expectin'  round  where  gentlemen  are.  I 
expect  I'll  kill  you  to-night." 

"Judge,  yessuh." 
[222} 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Let's  cut  the  cards  for  him.  Anyway,  he'll 
be  waiting  for  you  when  you  get  back." 

The  Senator  tamed  down.  "Wildcat,  whirl 
that  fan.  Pick  your  number  to  come,  Jackie," 
he  said.  "I  take  six." 

Captain  Jack  looked  at  the  fan.  " Jhree  for 
me.  I'm  directly  opposed  to  you." 

"You  shoot  the  three,"  the  Senator  said.  "I 
play  the  six  to  win.  Wildcat,  turn  her  on." 
The  fan  swung  for  a  moment.  "Shut  her  off." 

The  Senator  gazed  intently  at  the  whirling 
blades.  "Damn,"  he  said.  "The  Army  has 
all  the  luck.  The  second  bet  I've  lost  to-day. 
Mesopotamia  first  and  now  my  Wildcat 
nigger." 

Captain  Jack  smiled.  "When  you  get  back, 
Sir,  you  can  have  him." 

'Til  go  back  with  you,"  the  Senator  said. 
"Let's  get  this  wedding  business  over  with." 

Five  days  later  Captain  Jack  and  the  Lady 
Girl  were  married  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
gold  braid  in  Paris.  Well  in  the  background 
in  a  jungle  of  potted  palms  the  Wildcat,  carry 
ing  Captain  Jack's  motor  coat,  watched  the 
deal.  "Lady  Luck,"  he  commented,  "you  sho' 
done  noble." 

[223] 


;THE  WILDCAT 


ii 

In  the  open  sea  off  the  mouth  of  the  Gironde 
the  Lady  Girl  got  seasick.  Captain  Jack  and 
the  Senator,  resting  in  the  lee  of  the  chart 
room  of  the  "Texan,"  sent  the  Wildcat  after 
their  overcoats. 

"Nothin'  like  keepin'  warm/7  the  Senator 
said.  "If  sne  had  put  on  her  coat  when  I  told 
her  to  she  never'd  been  sick." 

"They  never  do  what  you  tell  'em.  I  should 
think  a  man  with  your  experience  would  know 
that." 

The  Senator  smiled.  "The  years  will  bring 
you  wisdom — at  an  enormous  expense." 

The  Wildcat  appeared  with  two  overcoats. 
Captain  Jack  settled  down  in  his.  He  thrust 
his  hands  deep  in  the  side  pockets.  The  fingers 
of  his  right  hand  encountered  a  pair  of  dice 
which  he  had  borrowed  from  the  Wildcat  some 
weeks  before.  He  fished  them  out  and  handed 
them  to  the  Wildcat. 

"Son,  here's  these  gallopers  of  yours/'  he 
said.  "They  sure  told  me  the  truth  a  while 
back." 

The  Wildcat  reached  eagerly  for  his  old  fa- 
[224] 


THE  WILDCAT 


miliar  dice.  "Cap'n,  yessuh.  Babies  come  to 
yo'  manager.  Cap'n  Jack,  suh,  kin  you  'scuse 
me  for  a  HI  while?" 

The  Wildcat  went  below.  He  sought  out  a 
group  of  the  ship's  crew.  "Where  at's  de  boy 
what  craved  action  ?"  he  questioned  loudly. 
"Ah's  commandin'  twin  clickers  an'  I'se  rarin' 
to  go." 

One  of  the  sailors  looked  at  him.  "Shove 
off,"  he  said.  The  Wildcat  threw  a  dollar  bill 
to  the  deck.  "I  starts  easy.  Shoots  a  dollah." 

The  sailor  covered  the  bet. 

"Alabam'J  Shoots  two  dollars.  Shower 
down  yo'  money.  Dice,  stay  right.  Mississip' ! 
Wham!  Shoots  fo'  dollahs.  Us  craves  de 
Navy  jack.  Shoots  four  dollahs.  Any  boy. 
Wham!  An'  Ah  reads  seven.  Shoots  eight 
dollahs.  Shoots " 

"Make  it  a  hundred  to  keep  th'  pikers  out." 
A  sailor  fished  a  thin  roll  of  bills  from  the 
pocket  of  his  blouse.  "The  Navy's  goin'  to 
eat  you  up." 

The  Wildcat  hesitated  only  a  moment.  He 
explored  himself  and  came  to  the  surface  with 
enough  to  cover  the  bet. 

"Lady  Luck,  at  yo'  feet.  Gallopers,  Ten-o- 

[225] 


THE  WILDCAT 


see — Ah  reads  'leven.  I  let's  it  lay.  Shoots 
two  hundred.  Army  craves  de  Navy's  blood/' 

"I've  got  mine/'  The  sailor  who  had  lost 
turned  away  from  the  group.  "I  was  bankin' 
heavy  on  that  damn  mascot.  There's  the  son 
of  a  gun  now.  Sure  a  dirty  day  for  me  when  I 
fished  you  out  of  the  drink,  you  four-legged 
hoodoo/' 

The  Wildcat  saw  the  goat  Lily  from  whom 
he  had  parted  in  the  river  weeks  before  near 
St.  Sulpice.  "Ah  quits,"  he  said.  "Dat  goat 
died  a  long  time  back.  Lily,  is  you  a  ghost  or 
is  you  born  again,  yo'  sho'  foun'  Lady  Luck." 

The  Wildcat's  confidence  swung  back  to  the 
mascot  whose  official  career  had  so  deeply  col 
ored  the  mottled  past.  "Lily,  you  devil,"  he 
said,  "I  don't  know  is  you  Jonah  or  ain't  you, 
but  us  is  Memphis  boun' — 'at's  why  I'se  as 
happy  as  a  bumble  bee — I  don'  botheh  Lady 
Luck  an'  she  don'  botheh  me/' 


[226] 


CHAPTER  XXII 


"I  don't  botheh  work, 
Work  don't  botheh  me. 

Me  an'  Lily's  Memphis  bound 

Memphis,  Ten-o-see." 

Several  wet  acres  East  of  Greenwich  Vil 
lage  the  Military  Wildcat  rared  upon  the  bow 
deck  of  the  "Texan"  and  faced  a  civilian  future 
that  promised  to  be  as  dull  as  a  Jerusalem 
Easter.  A  homeward  bound  quartermaster 
quartet  lined  up  against  the  port  rail  lingered 
long  on  the  minor  chords  of  "Aloha  Oi."  The 
red  chevron  on  the  Wildcat's  left  sleeve  voiced 
its  sinister  promise  of  the  forthcoming  divorce; 
a  divorce  that  would  separate  the  Wildcat 
from  the  business  of  parading  round  and 
round,  from  his  free  rations,  his  free  clothes 
and  the  various  casual  advantages  of  army  life 
in  the  A.  E.  F. 

Unstable  as  a  whirling  dervish  in  a  circulat 
ing  library  the  bow  of  the  "Texan"  danced  up 
and  down  and  around  on  the  swells  which 

[227] 


THE  WILDCAT 


launched  from  a  distant  Atlantic  storm.  The 
Wildcat  sat  down  on  deck.  Lily,  his  mascot 
goat,  was  tethered  to  a  nearby  cargo  winch. 
The  mascot  nibbled  delicately  on  a  handful  of 
oil-soaked  waste  which  caught  the  drip  of  a 
leaking  stuffing  box.  The  steel  deck  was  slip 
pery  and  Lily's  feet  clicked  in  an  irregular  ef 
fort  to  stay  underneath  their  owner's  center  of 
gravity.  The  clicking  suggested  something  to 
the  Wildcat.  He  fished  round  in  his  sock  and 
brought  out  a  pair  of  dice. 

A  moment  later  he  launched  the  dice  across 
the  deck  of  the  "Texan."  "Boys,  rally  roun'. 
Lissen  at  de  baby  gallopers.  Shoots  a  dollah. 
De  bone  remedy  cures  whut  ails  you.  Any 
boy.  Shoots  a  dollah." 

"Cut  it  out."  A  white  soldier  sprawled  full 
length  on  the  deck  gave  the  Wildcat  a  little 
good  advice.  "If  that  moral  uplifter  shark 
sees  you  with  them  bones  he'll  throw  you  in 
the  brig  or  else  make  four  passes  and  clean 
you." 

The  Wildcat  put  the  dice  away.    "Doggone, 

I  wish  we  wuz  back  in  de  wah."    He  turned 

to  his  mascot.     He  reached  in  the  side  pocket 

of  his  blouse  and  produced  a  harmonica.    The 

[228} 


THE  WILDCAT 


thin  notes  of  the  assembly  mingled  with  the 
lament  of  "Aloha  Oi." 

"Lily — 'tenshun!  As  you  wuz.  When  I 
calls  you  to  'tenshun,  sway-back  yo'se'f." 

"Head  up!"  The  Wildcat  mumbled  to  him 
self:  "Cap'n,  de  Company  is  formed."  Then 
in  louder  tones  he  addressed  the  mascot.  "By 
de  numbers.  Front  laigs  parade  res'!  Hind 
laigs,  parade  res'!  Not  bofe  together.  You 
must  th'ink  you  is  twins.  Fo'  a  three  striped 
goat  you's  de  know-leastest  I  eveh  see." 

"Blaa,"  said  Lily. 

"Silence  in  de  ranks!  Front  laigs  at  ease. 
Hind  laigs  at  res'."  Lily  sat  down  on  the  steel 
deck. 

"  'Tenshun !"  Lily  stood  rigidly  on  all  four 
feet.  From  the  pocket  of  his  blouse  the  Wild 
cat  produced  a  little  O.  D.  cape  and  a  small 
overseas  cap.  The  cape  was  decorated  with 
three  gold  stripes.  He  set  the  overseas  cap 
on  the  goat's  bony  head  and  after  fishing  a 
fourth  gold  stripe  from  his  pocket  he  began  to 
sew  it  to  the  goat's  cape. 

"Goat,  listen  to  me.  Ah  aims  to  knock  you 
loose  f'm  yo'  hawns  some  day.  Ah  wants  to 
git  dis  stripe  all  ready.  It's  a  wound  stripe. 

[229] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Does  you  aim  to  follow  me  roun'  afteh  we  lan's 
— stan'  steady  theh!  Come  to  'tenshun  when 
I'se  speakin' — you  betteh  git  military  'fo'  you 
needs  de  iodine." 

One  of  the  interested  spectators,  a  sergeant, 
spoke  up.  "You  got  no  chance  in  the  world  of 
takin'  that  mascot  on  shore  with  you.  These 
sailors  think  more  of  that  goat  than  they  do 
of  the  boat." 

"Lily  Vlongs  to  me.  Me  an'  dat  goat  went 
th'oo  de  Battle  of  Bordeaux  together  mo'  times 
dan  you  wuz  in  de  guardhouse."  The  argu 
ment  was  terminated  by  the  appearance  of  the 
uplift  gentleman  who  presently  began  to  speak. 

"Thirty  minutes  from  now,"  he  said,  "there 
will  be  singing  on  the  for'd  deck  here  and  I 
want  all  you  boys  to  join  in.  Two  of  you  boys 
come  with  me  and  help  carry  the  song  books 
out."  A  pair  of  reluctant  volunteers  followed 
the  uplifter  aft  and  started  down  a  hatch 
housing. 

The  prospect  of  thirty  minutes'  freedom 
from  moral  supervision  reacted  quickly  upon 
the  Wildcat  and  half  a  dozen  hardened  gam 
blers  of  his  color.  Presently  the  seven  were 
[230] 


THE  WILDCAT 


leaning  far  out  over  the  rail  at  the  bow  of  the 
"Texan." 

"I  banks,"  the  Wildcat  said.  "Odd  num 
bers  to  win  down  deep  in  five  dips.  Dollah  a 
dip."  Seven  pairs  of  eager  eyes  were  directed 
at  the  stem  of  the  ship  where  it  cut  the  surface 
of  the  water.  The  great  vessel  plunged. 

"Nineteen  feet,"  the  Wildcat  exulted.  "Ah 
wins."  The  boat's  bow  lifted  and  sank  again 
into  the  swell  of  the  sea.  "Nineteen  again — an' 
twenty-one  feet.  Ah  wins  three  straight! 
Float,  ol'  Elephant!  Ah  wins  on  seventeen!" 

The  Wildcat  called  the  turn.  "You  got  yo' 
feet  wet  dat  time.  Get  yo'  haid  undeh  now. 
Come  twenty-one."  The  bow  of  the  boat  sank 
until  the  twenty-one  foot  mark  on  the  stem  was 
even  with  the  water  surface. 

"Ah  wins  five  straight.  Pay  me  now." 
From  each  of  his  six  associates  the  Wildcat  col 
lected  five  dollars.  "Dey  might  stop  us  gam- 
blin'  but  dey  can't  stop  de  ol'  boat  rockin'.  Sho' 
is  a  lucky  boat.  Headed  de  right  way,  too !" 

"Shut  up !    Here  comes  the  songbird." 

"Whut  day's  dis?" 

"Prune  day.  Dey  all  is.  I  banks  you  boys 

[231] 


THE  WILDCAT 


five  dollahs  a  helpin'  on  de  odd  prunes  fo' 
dinneh." 

"Us  is  runnin'  short  of  prunes.  I  bet  we 
only  gets  fo'  to-day.  I  takes  you,  Wilecat." 
One  of  the  Wildcat's  associates  accepted  the 
conditions  of  the  prune  bet. 

"You  pays  up  when  de  prunes  is  dished  out. 
Once  you  eats  prunes  you  ain't  'sponsible  fo' 
whut  you  does." 

The  uplifter  and  his  two  assistants  dis 
tributed  the  song  books.  The  Wildcat  looked 
at  his  book.  "Ah  sees  de  words  but  whut  dey 
says  Ah  don'  know."  When  the  singing  began 
however  the  Wildcat's  voice  was  lifted  with 
the  rest.  Before  he  burst  into  song  each  time 
he  indulged  in  whispered  arrangements  with 
the  compact  brunet  group  about  him.  "Ten 
dollahs  on  de  odd  page." 

"You's  faded,  Wilecat." 

"We  will  now  sing  'Whiter  Than  Snow,' " 
the  uplifter  announced.  "Page  sixty-nine." 

"Boy,  pay  me.  I  wins,"  the  Wildcat  whis 
pered.  "Sixty-nine  come  odd." 

After  the  song  the  uplifter  engaged  in  a 
brief  lecture.  "You  have  escaped  the  perils  of 
France,"  he  concluded,  "and  now  you  are  about 
[232] 


THE  WILDCAT 


to  face  the  temptations  of  a  great  city.  I  want 
you  boys  to  pledge  yourselves  to  refrain  from 
games  of  chance  and  from  gambling  from  this 
moment  on.  Those  of  you  who  will  do  so  will 
raise  their  right  hands." 

The  entire  assemblage  signified  its  resolve  to 
keep  free  from  the  evils  of  gambling.  With  his 
hand  upraised  in  promise  the  Wildcat  bowed 
his  head  and  whispered  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
mouth,  "Five  dollahs  on  de  even." 

"We  will  now  sing  'O  Happy  Day/  page 
forty." 

"Page  fo'ty.  Fo'ty  ways  to  win.  Pay  me 
now,"  the  Wildcat  whispered  quickly.  He  col 
lected  his  winnings  and  sang  strenuously,  using 
a  text  foreign  to  the  printed  words.  "Ah  al 
ways  win,  Ah  always  win,  'cause  me  an'  my 
mascot's  free  f'm  sin." 

Where  sin  was  concerned  Lily  was  at  the 
moment  not  quite  as  pure  as  the  driven  snow, 
having  casually  indulged  in  the  satin  lining  of 
the  uplifter's  cap  which  he  had  removed  during 
the  song  service.  The  Wildcat  settled  for  the 
damage  with  a  quick  apology  and  a  savage  jerk 
on  the  rope  about  Lily's  neck. 

"I'll  learn  you  to  eat  caps.  Come  to  'tenshun ! 

[233] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Say  you  is  sorry  to  de  white  gen'mun,  you 
sacrilegious  digester  befo'  I  knocks  yo'  hawns 
down  yo'  th'oat" 

"Blaa!"  apologized  Lily. 


[234] 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


At  evening  the  "Texan"  dropped  her  hook 
off  Governor's  Island  and  swung  with  the  tide 
until  dawn.  The  Wildcat's  Captain  sent  for 
him.  The  Captain  was  convoyed  by  a  polit 
ically  conspicuous  father-in-law  and  a  blush 
ing  bride  in  whose  seasick  ears  the  echoes  of 
the  Captain's  promise  to  "Love,  Honor  and  O 
Baby!"  was  still  ringing. 

"We're  going  over  to  the  Pennsylvania 
Hotel,"  the  Captain  said.  "You  will  have  to  go 
on  up  East  River  and  out  to  Camp  Mills  with 
the  rest  of  the  casuals.  You  have  your  dis 
charge  and  special  orders  from  the  Base  Com 
mander  at  Bordeaux  and  all  you  need  is  a  clear 
ance  from  the  medical  officers  at  Camp  Mills. 
As  soon  as  they  turn  you  loose  hunt  me  up  at 
the  Pennsylvania  Hotel.  I  want  you  to  come 
down  to  Memphis  and  take  care  of  the  house." 

<TCap'n,  yessuh."  All  the  Wildcat  remem 
bered  of  his  instructions  was  the  word 
"Memphis."  He  stood  at  the  ship's  rail  with 

[235] 


THE  WILDCAT 


some  misgiving  and  saw  his  Captain  and  his 
Captain's  lady  and  the  politically  conspicuous 
senatorial  father-in-law  embark  for  the  Bat 
tery  in  the  launch  flying  the  quarantine  flag. 
His  melancholy  reverie  was  interrupted  by  the 
bleat  of  his  mascot  behind  him.  He  turned  to 
Lily. 

"Goat,"  he  said,  "you's  de  next  thing.  Whut 
to  do  about  you  I  don'  know." 

At  dawn  the  "Texan"  nosed  to  her  berth  and 
presently  by  companies  the  various  organiza 
tions  began  to  disembark.  The  Wildcat,  a  dis 
charged  casual,  began  to  realize  his  independ 
ence  and  to  regret  the  loss  of  the  yoke  of  au 
thority  which  his  military  neck  had  sustained. 
He  swallowed  heavy  a  couple  of  times  and  fin 
ally  parked  his  Adam's  apple  under  the  neck 
band  of  his  O.  D.  shirt. 

"Lily,  come  here."  He  led  the  goat  through 
a  hatch  housing  and  down  the  companionway 
to  the  deck  below.  He  walked  to  his  bunk.  He 
cut  two  short  pieces  of  light  cotton  rope  from 
the  coil  which  he  used  to  bind  his  non-military 
blanket  roll.  "Lily,  'tenshun!"  he  hissed. 
"Front  laigs  at  ease.  Hind  laigs  at  res'."  The 
tonneau  part  of  the  mascot  sat  down.  Jhe 

[236] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Wildcat  tied  Lily's  hind  legs  together  tightly. 
"Don'  ask  me  no  questions.  As  you  wuz!" 
he  said.  With  the  other  piece  of  rope  he  tied 
the  goat's  front  legs  together.  His  helmet,  his 
mess  kit,  two  or  three  extra  shirts  and  an  as 
sorted  accumulation  of  minor  impedimenta 
were  discarded  and  in  their  place  deep  within 
the  roll  of  six  blankets  Lily  presently  formed 
the  nucleus  of  a  compact  but  quickened  bed 
roll.  The  Wildcat  looped  several  lengths  of 
rope  about  the  ensemble  after  it  had  been 
sheathed  in  a  waterproof  shelter  half.  He  es 
sayed  a  bleat  or  two  in  imitation  of  Lily's  si 
lenced  voice.  He  tried  again  with  greater  suc 
cess,  muffling  his  ventriloquism  deep  within 
his  throat. 

"Does  Lily  start  a  ruckus,  Ah  goes  'Blaa' 
once  or  twice  and  claims  its  me.  Ah'll  get  dat 
goat  offen  de  boat  no  matteh  how  many  folks 
is  lookin'." 

Five  minutes  later  in  a  pier  choked  with 
O.  D.  humanity  strenuously  milling  under  a 
futile  wave  of  military  efficiency  the  Wildcat 
said  "yessum"  to  a  white  lady  and  accepted  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  a  piece  of  apple  pie.  "Or 
coffee  sho'  is  noble.  Thank  you,  ma'am,  thank 

[237] 


THE  WILDCAT 


you.  Sho'  is  noble  pie."  He  engulfed  about 
sixty  per  cent,  of  his  segment  of  pie  with  the 
first  bite.  His  clamping  jaws  came  together  on 
another  problem.  He  fished  the  problem  out  of 
his  mouth  with  the  little  finger  of  the  hand 
carrying  his  coffee  cup.  Shining  with  the  re 
flected  rays  of  a  brilliant  future,  out  of  the 
corners  of  his  eyes  he  saw  a  little  tin  horseshoe. 

"Mebbe  de  lady  what  made  de  pie  et  tobacco. 
Mebbe  de  lady's  boy.  Anyway,  Lady  Luck, 
here  us  is." 

By  mid-afternoon,  except  for  various  of 
ficials  whose  duties  kept  them  permanently  on 
the  pier,  the  structure  was  practically  deserted. 
One  of  these  officials  made  his  way  toward  the 
Wildcat  who  was  seated  against  the  landward 
wall  of  the  pier-shed  near  the  door.  "What 
outfit  do  you  belong  to  ?"  the  brass  button  man 
asked. 

"Cap'n,  Fse  a  casual,"  the  Wildcat  returned. 
"Ah  got  my  discharge  an'  de  red  stripe  in 
Bordeaux." 

"What  are  you  doing  around  here?" 

"Me,  I  just  landed  off  de  boat." 

"You  say  you  got  your  discharge  in  Bor 
deaux?" 
[238] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

"Let  me  see  it." 

The  Wildcat  fished  around  in  his  pocket  and 
produced  several  papers  which  the  officers  in 
Bordeaux  had  advised  him  to  retain.  The 
man  with  the  brass  buttons  looked  them  over. 

"Get  out  of  here,"  he  said.  "You've  fin 
ished  with  the  army  a  long  time  back." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

The  Wildcat  picked  up  his  blanket  roll  and 
started  for  the  door.  From  the  depths  of  the 
roll  there  came  a  faint  bleat.  The  brass  button 
man  looked  at  him  suspiciously.  "Hold  on. 
What  you  got  there?" 

"Cap'n,  suh,  nuthin'.  I  was  just  crowin'  in 
mah  th'oat,  like  dis."  The  Wildcat  essayed  a 
couple  of  "Blaas"  to  camouflage  the  vociferous 
Lily.  His  efforts  convinced  the  brass  button 
man  but  they  also  excited  the  concealed  cargo. 
The  Wildcat  walked  through  the  door  of  the 
pier-shed  blaa-ing  himself  along  at  something 
less  than  sixty  miles  an  hour.  Once  he  reached 
his  arm  surreptitiously  about  the  blanket  roll 
and  gave  it  a  terrible  squeeze  but  instead  of 
silencing  Lily  it  served  only  to  accentuate  her 
plaintive  tones. 

[239] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Damndest  crazy  nigger  I  ever  saw."  The 
brass  buttons  turned  and  resumed  his  official 
indolence. 

II 

Once  clear  of  the  pier-shed  the  Wildcat 
reached  into  the  bundle.  "For  two  jitneys  and 
a  picayune  Ah'd  choke  you  to  death,"  he  hissed. 
"Me  goin'  'blaa'  like  a  fool.  Come  up  here 
wid  me."  In  the  seclusion  of  an  angle  formed 
by  a  billboard  and  a  brick  wall  the  Wildcat 
opened  the  end  of  his  blanket  roll  and  dragged 
the  mascot  into  the  light  of  the  fading  day. 
He  removed  the  'cords  fore  and  aft  which 
bound  Lily's  feet.  "Stan'  up  there!" 

He  produced  the  tin  horseshoe  which  he  had 
retrieved  from  the  apple  pie  and  held  it  before 
Lily's  nose.  "Goat,  does  you  see  dat?  Lady 
Luck  is  trailin'  us  an'  'less  you  acts  noble  from 
now  on  Ah  aims  to  th'o  you  in  de  ocean.  Wid 
dis  hoss  shoe  Ah  don'  need  you  no  longeh." 

Lily  took  three  short  steps  with  her  head 
down  and  landed  violently  on  the  Wildcat's 
shins.  She  hit  him  again  squarely  from  be 
hind  as  he  was  rising  to  his  feet.  She  charged 
the  third  time  and  the  Wildcat  rolled  to  one 
[240] 


THE  WILDCAT 


side  in  an  endeavor  to  escape  the  four-legged 
tornado.  Lily  put  considerable  English  on  her 
self.  Her  horns  established  contact  with  that 
area  on  the  Wildcat's  cranium  which  he 
scratched  when  he  did  not  know  about  any 
thing. 

"Kameradl"  he  yelled.  "You  wins.  Ca'm 
yo'se'f,  goat.  Ah  quits.  Come  on  uptown  an' 
I'll  buy  you  some  fancy  grub.  I  neveh  aimed 
not  to  need  you.  Ah  needs  you  all  de  time. 
You  is  all  de  luck  I'se  got." 

Half  an  hour  later  Lily  and  the  Wildcat  got 
on  the  train  at  the  Long  Island  depot,  dived 
across  East  River  and  came  to  the  surface  in 
the  Pennsylvania  Station.  When  darkness 
fell  it  found  the  pair  wandering  around  Union 
Square.  "Us  camps  heah  fo'  de  night,  Lily," 
the  Wildcat  said.  He  unrolled  his  bed  roll  and 
was  about  to  go  into  temporary  camp  when  a 
policeman  moved  him  out. 

Down  the  street  he  saw  an  electric  sign.  He 
asked  a  white  gentleman  a  question.  "Cap'n, 
suh,  kin  yoj  tell  us  whah  at  we  kin  git  some 
grub?" 

The  stranger  thus  addressed  glanced  about 
him  and  saw  the  electric  sign.  "There  is  a 

[241] 


THE  WILDCAT 


restaurant  over  there — Childs  Restaurant/5 
he  said. 

"Cap'n,  thank  you,  suh.  Lily,  come  on. 
You's  de  same  as  a  child.  Me,  I  aims  to  wrap 
myse'f  roun'  a  man-size  ration." 

Two  minutes  later  he  was  again  on  the 
street,  this  time  headed  toward  the  Bowery. 
"Get  out  of  here  with  that  four-legged 
bouquet." 

A  few  blocks  down  the  Bowery  the  Wildcat 
saw  a  group  of  negroes  enter  a  saloon. 
"Us'll  hit  de  free  lunch — c'm  on,  Lily,"  he  said. 
He  shifted  his  military  bearing  for  the  hard 
boiled  swagger  of  the  river  boat  rouster.  He 
reached  into  his  pocket  and  produced  the 
Distinguished  Service  Cross  and  the  Croix  de 
Guerre  which  had  been  given  him  in  France. 
He  pinned  these  on  his  blouse  and  entered  the 
saloon. 

The  first  roll  of  his  eyes  took  in  the  detail  of 
four  busy  card  tables,  a  crap  game,  a  forty- 
foot  bar  and  a  prosperous  looking  free  lunch 
counter.  He  started  for  the  lunch. 

For  the  first  five  minutes  nobody  paid  any 
attention  to  him.  Then  a  beetle-browed  king 
of  spades  voiced  a  remonstrance.  "How  about 
[242] 


THE  WILDCAT 


it,  soldier?  You  gonna  come  across  for  next 
month's  board  before  you  eats  it  or  not?" 

The  Wildcat  mumbled  out  of  the  corner  of 
his  busy  jaws.  "Ca'm  yo'se'f,  man.  Ah  aims 
to  nutrify  mah'se'f  first.  I'll  pay  de  boa'd." 
He  handed  Lily  three  segments  of  energetic 
cheese.  Lily  and  the  cheese  grappled  in  a 
catch-as-catch-can  smell  contest,  the  outcome  of 
which  left  the  goat  victorious. 

"Run  the  big  smell  out  of  here,"  the  bar 
tender  ordered. 

The  Wildcat  looked  sideways  at  him.  "Boy, 
don't  git  hard  with  me.  Lily,  'tenshun!  At 
ease!  Hind  laigs  at  ease!  Sit  dere  whilst 
Ah  gits  a  drink."  The  Wildcat  turned  to  the 
bar.  "Bust  me  open  a  bottle  of  champagne, 
boy." 

A  group  at  one  end  of  the  card  tables  smiled 
at  the  military  goat.  In  the  bartender's  mind 
the  champagne  order  affected  the  Wildcat's 
status  to  a  considerable  degree.  "Payroll  nig 
ger,"  he  thought  to  himself.  "Can't  sell  any 
body  in  uniform  nothing,"  he  said. 

"Gimme  a  ovehcoat,"  the  Wildcat  countered. 
"Fse  out  of  de  army.  Fse  got  mah  red  stripe. 
Gimme  two  bottles  of  'spensive  champagne." 

[243] 


THE  WILDCAT 


He  produced  a  roll  of  bills  as  big  as  his  wrist. 

Bam !  The  first  cork  hit  the  ceiling.  "Gim 
me  de  bottle.  Ah  drinks  out  of  de  bottle." 

A  stranger  drifted  casually  to  the  bar.  "Did 
you  get  across,  Buddy?"  he  asked  the  Wildcat. 

The  Wildcat  set  the  champagne  bottle  down. 
"Across  what,  podneh?" 

"Was  you  in  France?" 

The  Wildcat  snorted.  "I'll  say  us  wuz.  Ah 
wuz  in  de  first  battle,  de  las'  battle  and  every 
thing  in  between.  Fust  gallop  outen  de  box 
I  rounds  me  up  fo'ty  Germans — dey  gimme  dis 
fo'  dat."  He  pointed  to  the  Croix  de  Guerre. 

"You  say  you're  out  of  the  army  now?" 

"Sho'  is.  Got  mah  red  stripe.  Special  dis- 
cha'ge." 

Another  stranger  drifted  into  the  conversa 
tion.  "Always  go  loaded  for  bear,  I  suppose?" 

"Sho'  do.  I  aims  to  pack  a  li'l  equalizer  all 
de  time." 

"Got  one  with  you  now?" 

"Restin'  heavy  on  mah  laig.  She  talks  free 
an'  easy  when  de  time  comes." 

"Them  new  automatics  sure  is  nice  guns. 
Lemme  see  it?"  the  second  stranger  addressed 
the  Wildcat.  Jhe  Wildcat  produced  a  .45 
[244] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Service  automatic  which  he  had  salvaged  in 
France.  The  second  stranger  threw  back  the 
lapel  of  his  coat.  "You  are  under  arrest  for 
carrying  concealed  weapons,  boy.  Come  with 
me."  He  displayed  a  large  nickel-plated  star. 
"It's  against  the  laws  of  this  State.  Probably 
cost  you  a  thousand  dollar  fine  or  a  year  in 
jail." 

The  Wildcat's  eyes  rolled  violently.  The 
first  stranger  spoke  quickly.  "Wait  a  minute, 
Al,"  he  said.  "Come  here  a  minute,  boy/'  He 
led  the  Wildcat  a  little  apart.  "I  can  fix  it  with 
that  man  for  one  hundred  dollars."  A  moment 
later  the  Wildcat  had  transferred  one  hundred 
dollars  of  his  roll  to  the  stranger. 

"All  I  says  is  git  him  out  of  here.  I  aims 
to  stay.  Sho'  is  much  'bliged  to  you,  podneh. 
Get  dat  man  away  f'm  heah."  A  moment  later 
the  Wildcat  again  breathed  the  air  of  free 
dom.  "Gimme  some  gin,"  he  said  to  the  bar 
tender. 

He  absorbed  three  or  four  slugs  of  gin.  He 
walked  over  to  the  crap  table.  "Ah  craves  ac 
tion  wid  de  bones.  Shoots  ten  dollahs."  A 
pair  of  swarthy  card  players  at  one  of  the  ta 
bles  accommodated  the  Wildcat. 

[245] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"You  like-a  to  tak-a  da  bones  on  a  prom 
enade?" 

"Ten  dollahs  says  so,"  the  Wildcat  replied. 
He  fished  the  dice  out  of  his  sock.  "Shower 
down  yo'  money,  boy." 

The  younger  Italian  covered  the  bet.  "Roll 
'em,"  he  said. 

The  Wildcat  warmed  the  dice  against  his 
leg  for  an  instant  and  then  threw  them  across 
the  green  cloth.  They  battered  sharply  against 
the  barrier  at  the  edge  of  the  table. 

"Ah  reads  seven.     Shoots  twenty  dollahs." 

"An"  a  five  side  bet,"  the  other  stranger  pro 
posed.  "You're  faded." 

"Wham!  Ah  reads  eleven.  Ah  lets  it  lay. 
Shoots  fifty  dollahs." 

"Twenty-five  dollars  is  beeg  enough. 
Twenty-five  dollars  limit." 

The  Wildcat  picked  up  the  rest  of  his  win 
nings  and  left  twenty-five  dollars  on  the  table. 
The  Italian  laid  down  a  new  looking  fifty-dol 
lar  bill  and  picked  up  the  Wildcat's  crumpled 
currency.  "Let  'em  roll,"  he  said. 

In  the  course  of  the  next  thirty  minutes  the 
Wildcat  had  accumulated  nearly  a  thousand 
dollars  in  new  crisp  bills  from  the  Italian  vie- 

[246] 


THE  WILDCAT 


tims  of  hard  luck.  Time  after  time  he  had 
thrown  down  the  limit  bet  of  twenty-five  peeled 
from  the  roll  of  bills  which  he  had  carried  from 
Bordeaux.  When  the  Wildcat's  original  roll 
had  dwindled  to  twenty  or  thirty  dollars  the 
Italians  displayed  strenuous  emotions. 
"I  quit-a  da  game.  Da  nigger  for  luck." 
The  Wildcat  shifted  his  roll  of  new  fifty 
dollar  bills  deep  into  his  pocket.  "Dat's  all, 
white  boy.  Nex'  lesson  I  learns  you  som'thin' 
new."  He  turned  to  Lily,  who  was  still  at 
rest  on  her  hind  legs  over  behind  the  lunch 
counter. 

"Lily,  'tenshun'!"  he  said.  The  goat  stood 
upright.  "Us  travels."  A  moment  later,  hav 
ing  forgot  his  blankets,  the  Wildcat  and  his 
mascot  left  the  saloon. 

"Ah  don'  botheh  work, 

Work  don'  botheh  me, 

You  loses  money  on  de  two  an*  th'ee. 

Warmin'  up  yo'  carcass  wid  a  slug  o'  gin, 

Ramble  'em  f  o'  Lady  Luck, 

You's  boun'  to  win." 


[247] 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


Twenty  minutes  after  the  Wildcat  left  the 
saloon  the  gambling  tables  were  raided. 
Among  the  fish  in  the  jail-bound  dragnet  were 
two  crap-shooting  Italians  who  had  contributed 
so  many  crisp  new  fifty  dollar  bills  to  the  Wild 
cat's  luck. 

In  the  wake  of  the  strolling  Wildcat  was  a 
flashily  dressed  boy  of  the  Wildcat's  color. 
Farther  down  the  Bowery  this  individual  ad 
dressed  the  Wildcat.  "Boy,  ain't  I  seed  you 
some  place?"  The  Wildcat  stopped  and 
looked  at  the  stranger. 

"I  'spects  so.  Me  an'  Lily's  been  roun'  con- 
sid'able." 

"Seems  like  I  met  up  wid  you  in  France." 

"Mebbe  so,"  the  Wildcat  conceded. 

"Them  wuz  de  good  ol'  days,"  the  stranger 
said.  "Wisht  I  could  get  me  back  in  a  ol'  uni- 
fohm  an'  be  an  army  man  again.  Nuthin'  to 
do  but  shoot  Germans  an'  sleep." 

"Wisht  Ah  could  git  me  into  some  fancy 

[248] 


THE  WILDCAT 


clo'es  wid  flappin'  laigs  to  de  pants,"  the  Wild 
cat  said.  "Does  I  git  hot  I  itch  myse'f  sick 
in  dese  leggins.  Dat's  why  de  Cap'ns  weah 
spurs  so  dey  can  scratch  th'oo  de  leggin's." 

"You-all  feel  agreeable  to  hibernate  a  dram 
inside  yo'  constitution — dram  of  gin  or  liquor  ?" 

"Keer  if  Ah  does,"  the  Wildcat  accepted. 
"Whahatdoesusgo?" 

In  a  nearby  saloon  the  Wildcat  absorbed 
three  heavy  drinks  of  gin.  "Wham !"  he  said 
as  he  set  his  third  empty  glass  down.  "Boy,  I 
sho'  'steems  them  clothes  of  yours  high." 

"Podneh,  bein's  as  it's  you  I  don't  mind 
tradin'.  Us  is  about  de  same  build." 

"You  trade  dat  raiment  fo'  dese  heah  com 
mon  army  clo'es!" 

"Bein'  as  its  you,"  the  stranger  conceded. 

Twenty  minutes  later  the  exchange  had  been 
effected.  The  Wildcat  began  to  prance. 
"Head  roun'  heah,  Lily,"  he  said.  "Ah'll  learn 
you!  Us  is  quality." 

The  stranger  looked  at  him. 

"I  got  a  good  automobeel  I'll  sell  cheap. 
You  ought  to  have  a  cah  for  seein'  N'Yawk." 

The  Wildcat  thought  of  his  winnings. 
"How  much?"  he  said. 

[249] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"I  got  a  high  grade  speedster  up  de  street 
here  you  can  have  fo'  five  hundred  dollahs." 

"Lemme  have  a  look."  They  walked  up  the 
street.  The  stranger  looked  intently  at  each 
automobile  which  they  passed.  He  finally 
pointed  to  a  low  blue  roadster.  "Dat's  de  car." 

The  Wildcat  reached  for  his  roll  of  bills. 
"Here's  de  money."  He  counted  out  ten  of 
the  fifty  dollar  bills  and  gave  them  to  the 
stranger.  "Sho'  is  much  'bliged.  Ah  sho'  did 
some  rough  drivin'  in  France.  Git  up  in  de 
seat,  Lily.  Roads  heah  sho'  is  noble,  podneh. 
So  long!"  With  Lily  beside  him  he  edged  into 
the  traffic. 

The  stranger  on  the  curb  counted  the  ten 
fifty-dollar  bills  and  put  them  in  his  pocket. 
"I'll  say  I  had  a  hell  of  a  time  findin'  a  car 
that  wasn't  locked  up/'  he  said. 

At  four  o'clock  that  morning  three  miles  up 
town  the  Wildcat  hauled  in  beside  the  curb 
and  settled  himself  comfortably  for  a  sleep. 
He  threw  his  arm  about  the  mascot.  Lily  gave 
a  plaintive  bleat  and  presently  the  pair  were 
sleeping.  At  five  o'clock  a  policeman  accom 
panied  by  a  man  in  plain  clothes  walked  over 
to  the  car.  The  policeman  glai/^d  at  a  slip 


THE  WILDCAT 


of  paper  in  his  hand  and  at  the  license  num 
ber  on  the  car.  "It's  all  right,  Jerry/'  he  said 
to  his  companion,  "I'll  herd  him  in." 

"Better  limber  up  the  gat  when  you  ' 
him  up.  He  might  be  a  bad  one,"  his  compan 
ion  advised.  The  policeman  reached  around 
and  produced  his  revolver.  He  stepped  over 
to  the  slumbering  Wildcat  and  tapped  him  on 
the  shoulder.  Thereafter  for  five  minutes  the 
Wildcat  batted  his  eyes  and  faced  a  gray 
world. 

"Cap'n,  how  come?" 

"Drive  to  the  station.  You  birds  is  getting 
thick  and  sassy.  Turn  to  the  left  here.  Don't 
let  me  hear  no  more  out  of  youse.  Tell  it  to 
the  sergeant."  The  officer  escorted  the  Wildcat 
through  the  portals  of  an  ugly  looking  build 
ing. 

"Lady  Luck,  where  at  is  you?"  the  Wildcat 
said.  Lily  trailed  along  behind  him.  Present 
ly  the  party  stood  before  the  bar  of  approxi 
mate  justice.  "I  found  this  bird  in  the  auto 
mobile  he  stole  from  Mr.  Burke.  Luggin'  a 
gat,  too." 

"Slough  him,  Danny,  for  the  afternoon  ses 
sion,"  the  de<\  sergeant  ordered. 


THE  WILDCAT 


The  Wildcat  knew  a  jail  when  he  saw  it. 
"Cap'n,  suh,  lemme  take  de  mascot  wid  me?" 
he  asked. 

"Get  bin  tc  hell  out  of  here,"  the  desk  ser 
geant  said.  After  turning  over  his  money  to 
the  custodian  the  Wildcat  presently  found  him 
self  and  Lily  in  the  bullpen.  "Lady  Luck,  dog 
gone  you  heah  us  is."  Lily  bleated  faintly. 
"Shut  up,  you  debbil,  'fore  Ah  knocks  yo'  whis- 
kehs  off.  Wisht  I  wuz  in  Memphis.  Wisht  ol' 
Cap'n  wuz  heah.  Wisht  Ah  knowed  where  at 
Cap'n  said  he  wuz." 

He  looked  about  him  searching  for  a  friendly 
face.  He  found  none,  but  three  cages  to  the 
left  of  him  he  saw  the  two  Italians  from  whom 
he  had  won  the  wealth  which  had  bought  his 
downfall.  He  spent  a  long  morning  in  jail. 
At  two  o'clock  he  was  haled  into  court  for  a 
preliminary  hearing. 

"Name's  Vitus  Marsden.  Dey  calls  me  de 
Mil'tary  Wildcat  'count  Ah  wuz  sergeant  in 
de  Fust  Service  Battalion,  A.  E.  F.,  in  France. 
.  .  .  Me,  Ah  comes  f  m  Memphis,  Ten-o-see. 
Ah's  Cap'n  Jack  Marshall's  boy  by  rights." 

"How  long  were  you  overseas?"  the  judge 
asked. 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Who,  me  ?  Judge,  Ah  wuz  over  dah  a  long 
time,  'bout  two  yeahs  too  long.  Ah  went  oveh 
when  de  wah  wuz  knee  high  to  a  toad.  Me  an' 
Lily  come  back  afteh  de  Piece  Conflooence 
stahted  to  figgeh  out  who'd  git  de  bigges' 
piece." 

"Who  was  Lily?"  the  judge  asked. 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  Lily's  de  mascot  I  carries 
roun'  fo'  luck." 

"How'd  you  happen  to  steal  that  automo 
bile?" 

"Didn't  steal  no  automobeel.  Boy  asked  me 
did  Ah  want  some  gin  an'  Ah  cumulated  me 
about  fo'  drinks  an'  afteh  dat  I  traded  clo'es 
wid  de  boy.  Got  dis  heah  suit  fo'  mah  soldier 
clo'es.  Pretty  soon  he  'lowed  Ah  ought  to 
have  a  automobeel  to  go  wid  all  de  fancy  clo'es. 
He  sold  me  his'n." 

"What  did  you  pay  him  for  it?" 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  Ah  give  de  boy  five  hund'ed 
dollahs.  Sho'  looked  like  a  good  cah." 

"Where  did  you  get  the  money?" 

"OF  Gin'ral  in  France  paid  me  de  money 
f  o'  savin'  de  Navy — part  of  it.  De  res'  I  'cum 
ulates  wid  de  bones  las'  nigh  ''fore  de  ruckus 
stahted." 

[253]! 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Where  did  you  get  those  two  medals  that 
were  in  your  pocket  ?" 

"OF  gin'ral  give  me  one  fo'  fetchin'  fo'ty 
Germans  in  de  fust  battle  us  boys  fought. 
French  gin'ral  give  me  de  otheh  one  foh  de 
same  thing/' 

In  the  Judge's  mind  there  grew  a  strong  in 
clination  toward  leniency,  but  there  were  too 
many  newspaper  reporters  present  for  him  to 
reflect  the  unstrained  quality  of  mercy. 

"Three  months  or  five  hundred  dollars,"  he 
pronounced. 

The  Wildcat  scratched  his  head.  "Don't 
know  is  us  got  dat  much,  Gin'ral." 

The  Judge  called  the  clerk  of  the  court. 
"How  much  money  was  on  this  prisoner  when 
he  was  arrested?" 

The  clerk  summoned  the  property  custodian 
and  the  Wildcat's  possessions  were  presently 
brought  into  court.  The  Croix  de  Guerre,  the 
Distinguished  Service  Cross,  the  .45  caliber 
automatic,  a  roll  of  bills  and  two  overworked 
dice  were  laid  in  front  of  the  Judge.  He 
handed  the  roll  of  bills  to  the  Wildcat.  "How 
much  money  have  you  here?" 

The  Wildcat  began  the  laborious  process  of 

[254] 


THE  WILDCAT 


counting  his  money.  "Near  as  I  kin  figger, 
Gin'ral,  it  looks  like  six  hundred  dollahs." 

"Three  months  or  five  hundred  dollars,"  the 
Judge  repeated. 

"You  mean  Ah  gits  loose  for  five  Hund'ed 
dollahs?" 

"That's  it." 

The  Wildcat  counted  out  ten  fifty  dollar 
bills  and  handed  them  to  the  Judge.  "Gin'ral, 
Ah  craves  to  git  loose,"  he  said.  "Heah's  de 
money." 

"Prisoner  discharged,"  the  Judge  said. 

The  clerk  handed  the  Wildcat  his  dice,  the 
Croix  de  Guerre  and  Distinguished  Service 
Cross.  "We  keep  this  gat,"  he  said,  pointing 
to  the  automatic. 

The  Judge  handed  the  clerk  the  ten  fifty 
dollar  bills. 

"Gin'ral's,  suh,  is  dat  all?"  the  Wildcat 
asked. 

"That's  all,"  a  uniformed  officer  told  him. 
"Beat  it!" 

The  Wildcat  turned  to  leave  the  courtroom. 
As  he  did  so  the  clerk  got  up  hastily  and  walked 
over  to  the  Judge.  He  whispered  something 

[255] 


THE  WILDCAT 


in  the  Judge's  ear  and  laid  the  ten  bills  in  front 
of  that  dignitary. 

"Hold  that  man!"  the  Judge  called.  The 
policeman  at  the  door  grabbed  the  Wildcat. 
"Bring  him  back  here."  The  Judge's  face  was 
suddenly  sinister  with  its  repressed  emotion. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  money?  It's 
phoney — counterfeit.  Throw  him  back  into 
the  pen,"  he  ordered. 

The  Wildcat  talked  fast.  "Gin'ral,  Ah  don' 
know  nuthin'  'bout  de  money  'ceptin'  I  won  it 
often  de  two  boys  whut  yo'  got  in  de  bullpen 
dis  mawnin' — two  dark-colored  white  boys. 
Ah  wuz  shootin'  craps  wid  dem  boys  in  a  saloon 
las'  night  an'  dey  changed  mah  money  foh  me 
fast  as  Ah  won  it." 

"Take  him  back  to  the  pen,"  the  judge  re 
peated.  He  turned  to  the  captain  of  detec 
tives.  "Hunt  up  that  pair  this  negro  speaks 
about.  This  is  that  phoney  Federal  Reserve 
stuff  that's  been  kicking  round  for  the  last 
three  months." 

Ten  minutes  later  the  Wildcat  was  again 
languishing  back  of  the  bars.  During  the 
course  of  the  afternoon  hope  gasped  a  few 

[256] 


THE  WILDCAT 


times  and  breathed  its  last.    "Lady  Luck,"  he 
said,  "doggone  you,  where  at  is  you  hid?" 


ii 

Lady  Luck,  however,  was  not  so  far  away. 
Early  in  the  evening  the  Wildcat  was  again 
summoned  from  his  place  of  confinement.  He 
was  called  upon  to  identify  the  two  Italians 
from  whom,  he  had  obtained  the  fifty  dollar 
bills.  After  this  brief  process  was  accom 
plished  he  was  released.  "Your  fine  is  re 
manded/'  the  desk  sergeant  told  him.  "We 
needed  those  two  vag  wops  you  identified  and 
needed  'em  bad  for  launching  the  queer  fifty 
paper." 

"Cap'n,  yessuh.    Whut  does  I  do  now?" 
"Beat  it.    Git  to  hell  out  of  here  quick." 
"Cap'n,  yessuh."     Thirty  seconds  later  the 
Wildcat  and  Lily,  closely  followed  by  the  invis 
ible  Lady  Luck,  were  again  on  the  streets  of 
New  York. 

"Doggone!"  the  Wildcat  repeated.  "Wisht 
Ah  wuz  in  Memphis.  Wish't  ol'  Cap'n  wuz 
heah.  Ah  dunno  where  at  kin  he  be." 

The  Wildcat's  Captain  was  at  the  moment 

[257] 


THE  WILDCAT 


boarding  a  train  in  the  Pennsylvania  Station 
which  would  take  him  to  San  Francisco  en 
route  to  Siberia,  to  which  military  fate  he  had 
been  ordered  that  afternoon  by  the  relentless 
telegraphic  hand  of  superior  military  author 
ity.  With  him  he  carried  his  heavy  heart,  a 
tearful  bride  and  the  futile  promises  of  a  Sena 
torial  father-in-law  to  get  him  out  of  the  army 
or  else  bust  Washington  wide  open.  Fate's 
third  alternative,  that  of  failure,  was  not  in  the 
Senator's  lexicon.  The  Senator  had  a  lot  to 
learn  about  the  favors  of  royalty  in  spite  of  his 
wide  political  experience. 

At  the  Wildcat's  heels  Lily  bleated  faintly. 
"Shut  up!"  the  Wildcat  said.  "You  ain't  no 
hungrier  dan  whut  Ah  is.  Was  us  in  Memphis 
Ah'd  fill  you  so  full  of  hot  catfish  you  couldn't 
walk." 

Somewhere  in  the  association  of  food  and 
travel  the  Wildcat's  infantile  mentality  devel 
oped  a  kitchen  on  wheels.  "Hot  dam !"  he  said. 
"Ah  gits  me  a  job  on  de  train  waitin'  on  de 
table  an'  when  de  white  gentlemen  is  th'oo  us 
eats  an'  travels  at  de  same  time."  He  stopped 
the  first  pedestrian  he  encountered.  "Cap'n, 
suh,"  he  said,  "kin  you  all  tell  me  where 

[258] 


THE  WILDCAT 


at  de  man  is  whut  hires  eatin'  car  ban's?" 

"What  hires  what?" 

"What  hires  de  boys  dat  waits  on  table  on 
trains." 

The  man  looked  at  him.  "Look  it  up  in  the 
telephone  book,"  he  said. 

"Cap'n,  suh,  Ah  ain't  learned  to  read  yit. 
Dey  tried  to  teach  us  boys  in  de  army  but  we 
wuz  too  busy  killin'  Germans  to  read  much." 
The  man  looked  at  him.  "Were  you  in  the 
army?" 

"Yessuh,  two  years  in  France,  right  from 
de  staht." 

"Come  on  with  me."  He  led  the  Wildcat  to 
a  drugstore  where  he  consulted  a  telephone  di 
rectory  and  presently  told  him  explicitly  how 
to  get  to  the  office  of  the  superintendent  of  din 
ing  car  service.  "Is  that  clear?"  he  asked. 

"Cap'n,  no  suh.  Ah  gits  all  mixed  up  wid 
dese  streets.  Ah  'spec  Ah's  de  best  forgetter 
whut  is." 

"Hell,"  the  stranger  said.  "Come  with  me." 
The  stranger  who  had  been  a  Red  Cross  man 
in  France  and  who  was  therefore  trained  in 
the  gentle  business  of  doing  unrewarded  fav 
ors  and  kind  things  for  other  people,  gave  the 

[259] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Wildcat  thirty  minutes  of  his  time.  Presently 
the  pair  stood  before  a  door  whose  legend  in 
dicated  that  the  superintendent  of  dining  car 
service  had  his  office  just  beyond  its  panels. 

The  Wildcat's  guide  tried  the  door.  It  was 
locked.  He  called  to  a  janitor  who  was  busy 
with  a  vacuum  cleaning  snake  down  a  long 
corridor.  "Anybody  on  duty  here  at  night  ?" 

"Nine  o'clock  to-morrow  morning,"  the  jani 
tor  called  back. 

"This  is  the  place.  The  man  won't  be  here 
until  nine  o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 

"Gin'ral,  thank  you.  Me  an'  Lily '11  wait  fo' 
him." 

The  stranger  smiled.  "Good-by.  Good 
luck,  boy." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh.  Us  sho'  is  much  'bliged 
to  yo'." 

Five  minutes  later  the  janitor  put  the  Wild 
cat  and  his  mascot  out  of  the  building.  They 
spent  the  night  on  the  steps  of  it. 


[260] 


CHAPTER  XXV 


The  next  morning  at  nine  o'clock  the  Wildcat 
and  Lily  faced  the  gentleman  in  whose  hands 
were  the  gustatory  destinies  of  the  people  who 
travel  Westward  over  the  line  which  carries 
the  dining  cars  under  his  supervision. 

"Any  experience  as  a  waiter?" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh.  Ah  took  care  of  white  gen 
tlemen  off  an'  on  ten  yeahs  since  Ah  wuz  a 
boy." 

"Number  54  Westbound.  10:20."  The  su 
perintendent  of  dining  car  service  called  a  boy. 
"Take  this  man  down  the  yard.  He  goes  out 
on  54  with  Stevens.  Bus  boy.  Tell  Stevens  if 
he  is  a  live  one  to  give  him  a  tray." 

The  boy  turned  to  the  Wildcat.  "Come  on 
with  me."  Out  in  the  hall  the  Wildcat  accumu 
lated  Lily  who  had  been  giving  the  ozone  in 
the  building  a  run  for  its  money. 

"Is  that  your  goat?"  the  boy  said. 

"Dat's  mah  mascot.  Where  at  I  goes  he  fol 
lows.  Come  'long  heah,  Lily." 


THE  WILDCAT 


"He'll  have  a  hell  of  a  time  following  you 
now." 

"  'At  goat  kin  make  sixty  miles  a  hour  back 
of  any  steam  engine  whateveh  pulled  a  train/' 

"Sure  has  got  the  strength  if  smell  counts," 
the  boy  said. 

They  made  their  way  to  the  yards  where,  on 
a  side  track,  lay  an  eighty- foot  diner.  The  boy 
boarded  the  car  and  knocked  on  the  door  of 
the  kitchen.  The  negro  chef  opened  the  door. 
"Tell  Stevens  when  he  comes  down  the  boss 
says  this  man  goes  out  on  the  Westbound 
run."  He  turned  to  the  Wildcat.  "This  is  the 
chef.  He  will  wise  you  up." 

The  Wildcat  faced  a  hardboiled  member  of 
his  own  race.  "Get  in  here,"  the  chef  said.  "I 
don't  want  no  scenery  cooks  on  this  run.  Is  you 
got  a  bottle  with  you  ?  Staht  in  shinin'  up  that 
silver." 

"Boy,  take  care  o'  dis  goat  ontil  Ah  goes 
uptown  a  minute  an'  Ah'll  have  a  bottle." 

"Don't  allow  no  goats  on  heah,"  the  chef 
said. 

The  Wildcat*  looked  at  him.     "LTwo  full 
quarts — OF  Squareface?" 
[262] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Hurry  up,"  the  chef  conceded.  "I'll  take 
care  of  de  goat." 

At  ten  twenty  the  Wildcat  pulled  out  of  the 
terminal.  From  then  until  the  first  call  for 
lunch  he  was  busy  learning  things.  The  Wild 
cat  learned  a  good  deal  every  mile  the  train 
traveled  and  there  are  more  than  three  thou 
sand  miles  between  New  York  and  San  Fran 
cisco. 

In  the  Chicago  yards  the  dining-car  conduc 
tor  handed  a  service  wire  to  the  chef,  who  read 
it  and  passed  it  on  to  his  assistants.  "No  res' 
fo'  de  weary,"  he  complained.  "Us  makes  an 
other  emergency  run  to  'Frisco  wid  dis  cah. 
We  leaves  on  de  Overland  at  7:10  to-night. 
Couple  o'  you  boys  help  wid  de  ice  an'  p'visions 
when  de  time  comes." 

In  the  afternoon,  before  the  first  dinner  call, 
three  days  west  of  Chicago  the  chef  rounded 
up  his  waiters.  "Go  strong  on  the  entrees,"  he 
said.  fTlay  up  the  pork  tenderloins.  If  you 
don't  we  got  to  throw  'em  overboard.  When 
they  calls  for  club  steaks  advise  against  'em.  I 
ain't  got  none  left.  Play  de  oysters  strong. 
Dey's  weakenin'." 

The  Wildcat  drevr  four  army  officers  at  his 

[2633 


THE  WILDCAT 


table.  Two  of  these  gentlemen  carried  stars  on 
their  shoulders.  The  other  two  were  festooned 
with  eagles.  "Boy,  what  you  got  that's  good?" 
one  of  the  colonels  asked. 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  Ah'se  got  some  oysters  out 
there  what  claims  to  be  prize  winners.  De 
head  chef  just  tol'  me  confidential  'at  he  had 
some  lovely  entrails  on  de  fiah." 

"Entrails!"  A  heavy  set  general  opposite 
the  colonel  looked  serious  and  covered  his  lips 
with  three  fingers  of  his  hand.  "Air  is  close 
in  here,"  he  said. 

The  colonel  to  whom  the  Wildcat  had  made 
recommendations  smiled  a  crooked  smile. 
"Lug  in  some  entrails  and  any  other  chow 
you've  got.  It's  all  a  gamble  anyhow." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh.  Would  you  crave  dem  filly 
mignons  aveck  champions  ?" 

"What's  that?" 

"Ah  don'  jus'  know.  They  stews  up  some 
vegetables  wid'  okra  an'  some  swell  steaks  off 
a  champion  racin'  filly,  mebbe.  Since  de  wah 
us  eats  horse  meat  an' " 

"What's  that  damnable  smell?"  the  heavy-set 
general  interrupted.  "Close  in  here." 

"Gin'ral,  Ah  don'  know.    Might  be  some  of 

[264] 


THE  WILDCAT 


dem  mountain  varmints  we  run  over.  They 
smell  strong  every  time  de  wheels  go  roun,' 
an'  de  way  we'se  travelin'  now  de  wheels  sho' 
is  goin7  roun'.  Dey  sort  of  trails  out  afteh  de 
train  hits  'em." 

"That's  all.  Go  out  in  the  kitchen  and  bring 
us  something  to  eat.  Bring  us  some  coffee 
first." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh."  The  Wildcat  headed  for 
the  kitchen. 

"Smells  to  me  like  plain  goat,"  the  general 
said. 

"Page  the  indoor  English  mutton  chop,"  one 
of  the  colonels  recommended.  He  called  the 
dining  car  conductor.  "Open  a  ventilator  or 
two.  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  idea  ? 
This  car's  been  smelling  like  a  circus  train  ever 
since  we  got  on  board." 

The  dining  car  conductor  reflected  that  it 
looked  like  a  circus  ever  since  the  heavy  set 
generals  and  their  skinny  aides  boarded  the 
train.  He  did  not  voice  his  reflections.  "It  is 
close  in  here,"  he  said. 

"Damn  close,"  the  heavy-set  general  echoed. 
"Smells  like  goat  to  me." 

"Prob'ly  we  run  oveh  one  of  dese  rocky 

[265] 


THE  WILDCAT 


mountain  goats  or  somethin'  gin'ral."  The 
Wildcat  returned  presently  lugging  several 
thousand  pounds  of  rations.  He  shuffled  the 
deck  and  dealt  the  rations  promiscuously.  The 
heavy-set  general  regarded  the  food  before  him 
with  a  fishy  eye.  "Take  it  away  and  bring  me 
some  coffee,"  he  said.  Several  feet  of  his 
chest  heaved  slightly.  "Bring  me  some  soup/' 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  on  de  curves  we  don'  serve  no 
soup.  We  won't  hit  de  soup  track  for  quite 
awhile  yit.  Dis  railroad's  got  a  soup  track  in 
it  every  so  often  an'  on  dese  curves  us  boys 
would  drown  ourse'fs  convoyin'  soup  out. 
'Spect  we'd  hahdly  git  out  of  de  kitchen  wid  it 
afore  somethin'  would  wreck  us." 

The  Wildcat  turned  to  the  other  general. 
"Gin'ral,  Ah  thought  mebbe  you'd  like  some 
chicken.  It  ain't  on  de  bill  but  we  run  oveh  it 
down  de  yards  de  las'  stop.  De  chef  got  it  fo' 
himse'f.  Ah  made  th'ee  passes  through  wid 
de  gallopers  an  won  it  offen  him." 

One  of  the  colonels  addressed  his  three  com 
panions.  "Gentlemen,  if  it  is  all  the  same  to 
you,  I  think  I  will  go  back  in  the  car.  Boy," 
he  said  grandly  to  the  Wildcat,  "have  some 
ham  sandwiches  sent  back." 
[266] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Gin'ral,  yessuh.  Dey  ain't  no  ham — us  boys 
etit." 

"Damndest  road  I  ever  saw,"  the  heavy  set 
general  complained. 

"Ain't  it  de  truf?"  the  Wildcat  agreed. 
"Wunst  I  gits  home,  Gin'ral,  Ah's  done.  You 
an'  me  bofe."  Two  minutes  later  four  dis 
gruntled  army  officers  left  the  dining  car  after 
having  dined  on  overworked  coffee  and  a  quad 
rant  of  sick  looking  casaba  melon.  "Damndest 
service  in  the  world,"  the  ranking  officer  ex 
claimed. 

"That's  what  that  Government  supervision 
does,"  one  of  his  companions  suggested. 
"What  can  you  expect?" 


ii 


An  hour  later  after   the  dining  car  had 
cleared  and  everything  was  quiet  except  for  a 
crap  game  among  the  cooks  and  waiters  at  the  i 
forward  end  the  Wildcat  set  one  table  and  did  ] 
a  few  things  with  the  fire  in  the  kitchen.  I 

He  stuck  his  head  out  of  the  kitchen  and 
called  to  the  chef  in  charge  of  the  car.    "Come 

[267] 


THE  WILDCAT 


here  a  minute.  A  drink  of  gin  says  it  wants 
to  see  you." 

The  chef  got  up  at  his  subordinate's  invita 
tion  and  joined  the  Wildcat  in  the  kitchen. 

"Boy,"  the  Wildcat  said,  "Fse  been  thinkin' 
'bout  them  fo'  soldier  men  what  didn't  git  no 
suppeh  much.  S'pose  you  an'  me  heads  in  an' 
sees  whut  kin  we  do?  You  owes  me  fo'  dol- 
lahs  credit  Ah  lent  you.  Ah'll  let  it  go  until 
to-morrow  if  you  pitch  in  and  he'p  me.  'Long- 
side  of  dat  you  gits  two  drinks  of  gin  out  of  my 
private  bottle." 

"Le's  go !"  the  chef  agreed.  The  kitchen  for 
a  little  while  became  the  scene  of  whirlwind 
activity. 

Presently  the  Wildcat  made  his  way  back 
through  the  train  until  he  came  upon  the  four 
officers.  "Gentlemen,  suh,"  he  said.  "Yo'  pri 
vate  dinneh  is  served." 

The  heavy-set  general  looked  at  him. 
"What!" 

"Ah  seed  you  didn't  eat  much  dinneh,  Gin'- 
ral,  so  afteh  de  common  folks  lef,  me  an'  de 
boy  fixed  up  a  snack  fo'  you  all." 

"Great  gad!"  The  General  got  to  his  feet. 
"Come  here,  you  fellows."  With  his  three  com- 

[268] 


THE  WILDCAT 


panions,  led  by  the  Wildcat,  he  went  forward 
to  the  diner.  The  battle  opened  with  cocktails 
that  had  the  authority  all  the  way  from  the 
bottoms  of  the  crystal  glasses  to  the  tops  of 
their  frozen  edges.  It  waged  for  an  hour  with 
an  intensity  which  left  the  four  officers  gorged 
with  the  best  food  they  had  tasted  for  many 
days,  cooked  as  only  a  chef  of  the  South  could 
cook  it. 

After  the  smoke  of  the  conflict  had  been  re 
placed  by  that  of  four  perfect  cigars  the  heavy 
set  General  leaned  back  and  went  to  sleep  for 
thirty  seconds.  He  awoke  with  a  little  start. 
"My  God,  I  thought  I  was  in  heaven."  He 
called  to  the  Wildcat.  "Boy,"  he  said,  "this  is 
what  I'd  call  an  emergency  miracle."  He  held 
out  two  banknotes  toward  the  Wildcat.  "Give 
one  of  these  to  the  chef  and  keep  the  other  for 
yourself." 

"Gin'ral,  suh,  Ah'll  give  de  chef  his  but  I 
wuz  a  soldier  in  de  A.  E.  F.  myse'f.  Dat's  all 
right.  Ah's  glad  to  serve  you,  suh." 

"Where  were  you  a  soldier?" 

"Gin'ral,  all  oveh  France.  Ah  wuz  oveh 
dere  first  an'  came  near  bein'  de  las'  man 
back."  He  reached  in  his  pocket.  "One  of  de 

[269] 


THE  WILDCAT 


gin'rals  give  me  dis  heah  cross  fo'  ketchin' 
fo'ty  Germans  an'  de  French  gin'ral  give  me 
de  otheh  cross.  Ah  'spect  if  dey  let  me  keep  at 
it  Ah'd  ketched  all  de  Germans  whut  wuz." 

For  five  minutes  the  Wildcat  entertained 
the  four  officers  with  a  sketch  of  his  activities 
in  the  A.  E.  F. 

The  heavy-set  general  quit  laughing  long 
enough  to  wipe  the  tears  out  of  his  eyes. 
"Boy,"  he  said,  "if  you  are  ever  in  San  Fran 
cisco  and  want  anything,  hunt  me  up." 

"Gin'ral,  yessuh.  Ah  needs  some  easy 
shoes,"  the  Wildcat  said.  He  came  to  atten 
tion  and  saluted  the  best  he  knew  how,  which 
was  one  hundred  per  cent  of  perfection.  The 
four  officers  left  the  car. 

"What  I  want  to  know  is,  how  did  they 
get  rid  of  the  smell  so  quick?"  one  of  the  gen 
erals  said  as  he  walked  through  the  vestibule. 

The  Wildcat,  handing  the  banknote  to  the 
chef,  unconsciously  answered  the  general's 
query.  "You  smells  niggers  an'  you  smells 
goats,  single,  but  mix  'em  up  an'  you  don'  smell 
neither  one — much." 


[270] 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


The  Wildcat,  having  fed  Lily,  was  on  his 
hands  and  knees  on  the  floor  of  the  car,  teach 
ing  the  rest  of  the  waiters  a  few  of  the  details 
of  the  business  of  making  sevens  and  elevens 
bring  home  the  bacon.  "Fade  me,  f iel'  han's. 
Fade  me.  To-morr's  de  las'  day  f o'  revenge. 
Us  needs  action  to-night." 

By  midnight  he  was  custodian  of  all  the  per 
sonal  cash  on  the  car  and  forty  dollars  of  that 
belonging  to  the  company. 

At  Oakland  the  surplus  of  skilled  dining  car 
waiters  divorced  the  Wildcat  from  his  latest 
job.  Cast  upon  the  flinty  bosom  of  an  ungrate 
ful  world,  he  stood  casually  regarding  the 
bright  lights  of  the  city.  "Which  way's  de 
main  part  of  town?"  he  asked  a  man. 

"Catch  that  boat,"  the  man  said.  "She 
leaves  in  two  minutes." 

Leading  Lily,  the  Wildcat  boarded  one  of 
the  Bay  ferries  which  was  presently  headed  for 
San  Francisco. 


THE  WILDCAT 


Midway  across  the  Bay,  off  Goat  Island,  the 
Wildcat  turned  to  a  fellow  passenger.  "Whah 
at's  dis  boat  headed  fo'?" 

The  passenger  looked  at  him.  "That's 
France  right  across  the  Bay.  We  just  now 
passed  Goat  Island/' 

The  Wildcat  thought  the  stranger  was  mis 
informed  on  the  France  deal  but  according  to 
the  Wildcat's  experience  in  all  probability  the 
white  man  spoke  the  truth.  He  was  consider 
ably  worried  until  he  landed  a  few  minutes 
later  in  San  Francisco  and  asked  five  or  six 
people  successively  where  at  he  was. 

"Lily,  come  on  heah !"  he  commanded.  The 
Wildcat  and  his  mascot  headed  up  Market 
Street.  It  took  him  half  a  day  to  get  to  the 
end  of  this  street.  He  faced  Twin  Peaks. 
"Way  mah  feet  feels  Ah  don'  crave  to  climb 
no  mountains."  He  turned  round  and  headed 
toward  the  Bay.  In  the  course  of  his  prome 
nade  going  and  coming  on  Market  Street  he 
and  Lily  consumed  between  five  and  ten  tons  of 
assorted  peanuts  and  bananas.  Again  in  the 
heart  of  town  his  fancy  leaned  strong  toward 
the  business  of  dolling  himself  up  externally. 
Financially  speaking,  he  was  as  strong  as  the 
[272] 


THE  WILDCAT 


aroma  which  radiated  from  the  mascot  he  was 
leading. 

Presently  he  emerged  from  a  clothing  store 
which  had  sold  him  a  hat,  a  pair  of  shoes  and 
everything  in  between.  He  and  Lily  continued 
marchin'  round  an'  round.  Thirty  minutes 
later  his  feet  began  to  hurt  him.  He  sat  down 
on  the  curb  and  took  off  his  shoes  and  con 
tinued  to  march  barefooted.  "Wisht  Ah  had 
me  a  pair  of  army  shoes."  He  resolved  to  hunt 
up  his  heavy-set  military  general  friend  and 
git  a  pair  of  old  army  shoes  from  him. 

He  confronted  a  gentleman  indulging  in  a 
siesta  in  Union  Square.  "Whah  at  does  de 
soldiers  live  in  dis  town?" 

The  man  pointed  to  a  Geary  Street  car. 
"Catch  that  T)'  car.  It  will  take  you  out  to 
the  Presidio  where  the  soldiers  are." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  Wildcat  and  Lily 
were  wandering  round  the  Presidio  hunting  for 
the  heavy-set  general.  In  the  many  hundreds 
of  acres  comprising  the  Presidio  there  is  plenty 
of  room  in  which  to  hunt  a  heavy-set  general. 
At  early  evening  the  Wildcat  was  still  going 
round  and  round  without  having  picked  up  the 
scent.  He  and  Lily  took  Retreat  where  it 

[273] 


THE  WILDCAT 


caught  them.  With  the  boom  of  the  gun  the 
Wildcat  decided  to  get  back  downtown.  He 
started  for  the  car.  Waiting  on  the  platform 
in  the  center  of  a  group  of  army  officers  was 
a  gentleman  whose  presence  struck  at  the  roots 
of  the  Wildcat's  being.  Barefooted,  dragging 
Lily  as  fast  as  the  reluctant  mascot  would 
travel,  the  Wildcat  raced  toward  this  man. 

"Cap'n  Jack,"  he  called.    "Heah  us  is !" 

(The  Wildcat's  Captain  faced  his  old  associ 
ate.  "How  in  hell  did  you  get  here?  Come 
on  here  with  that  goat." 

Captain  Jack,  the  Wildcat  and  Lily  boarded 
the  car.  "If  I  catch  you  leavin'  me  again  I'll 
kill  you,"  the  Captain  said. 

"Cap'n  Jack,  yessuh.  Whah  at  is  us  gwine 
now?" 

Captain  Jack's  face  was  suddenly  overcast 
with  a  mask  of  heavy  melancholy. 

"Siberia,"  he  said  slowly. 

"When  does  us  staht?" 

"Shut  up!" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

On  the  way  downtown  to  the  hotel  where 
Captain  Jack's  tearful  bride  awaited  him  he 
told  the  Wildcat  of  the  sudden  turn  of  affairs 

[274] 


THE  WILDCAT 


which  had  condemned  him  to  this  new  and 
awful  fate. 

Without  his  Captain  enlarging  upon  the 
question,  the  Wildcat  sensed  the  dismal  busi 
ness  that  was  flooding  his  Captain's  heart. 
"Cap'n,  suh,  mebbe  it  ain't  so  bad.  Me  anr 
Lily'll  be  there,  an'  .  .  ." 

"Shut  up!" 

"Cap'n,  yessuh." 

II 

At  six  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  Wildcat 
faced  a  day  which  included  considerable  ram- 
blin'  round  in  tight  shoes.  He  resolved  to  play 
the  Presidio  bet  once  more  in  an  effort  to  ac 
cumulate  some  army  shoes  for  himself.  "Cap'n 
Jack  ain't  gwine  to  git  up  until  ten  o'clock.  Me, 
Ah  gets  back  long  befo'  dat." 

He  headed  again  for  the  Presidio. 

The  first  officer  he  encountered  was  the 
heavy-set  general.  The  Wildcat  explained  the 
necessity  for  easy  shoes.  "Me  an'  Cap'n  Jack 
goes  oveh  to  Siberia  wid  de  army  dis  afteh- 
noon.  Cap'n  Jack's  wife  whut  he  brung  wid 
him  prob'ly  have  me  ramblin'  all  day.  Neveh 
seed  a  lady  cry  so  much.  Sho'  wisht  Ah  could 

[275] 


THE  WILDCAT 


git  olj  Cap'n  Jack  to  Memphis.  Seems  like  he 
had  'nuff  army  to  las'  him  f  m  now  on." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  five  minutes  the 
general  put  the  Wildcat  through  a  cross-ex 
amination  and  then  for  a  little  while  the  offi 
cer  stood  silent  looking  up  at  the  colors  which 
flew  from  the  flagstaff  near  where  they  were 
standing.  He  turned  to  the  Wildcat.  "Boy, 
come  with  me,"  he  finally  said. 

The  Wildcat  followed  the  General  into  the 
post-adjutant's  office.  The  moment  the  Gen 
eral  entered  the  adjutant's  room  half  a  dozen 
officers  jumped  to  their  feet  and  stood  stiffly 
at  attention.  The  General  spoke  a  few  words 
softly  to  a  colonel  standing  at  a  big  desk.  The 
colonel  in  turn  spoke  loudly  to  three  or  four 
of  his  aides.  A  stenographer  near  the  colonel's 
desk  began  clicking  a  lot  of  words  into  a  type 
writer.  Presently  five  or  six  sheets  of  paper 
were  laid  before  the  General.  He  picked  up  a 
pen  and  signed  his  name  three  times.  He 
folded  two  of  these  sheets  of  paper  and  put 
them  into  an  envelope. 

"Take  these  down  to  Captain  Jack  right 
away,"  he  said  to  the  Wildcat. 

The  Wildcat  snapped  a  salute  at  the  General. 

[276] 


THE  WILDCAT 


"Gin'ral,  yessuh,"  he  said.  He  walked  to  the 
door,  where,  civilian  clothes  and  all,  he  perpe 
trated  another  bunch  of  military  courtesy.  He 
executed  a  perfect  about  face  and  walked  from 
the  room.  "Gin'ral's  message  to  Cap'n  Jack 
sho'  is  important." 


Ill 

At  the  hotel  he  sought  Captain  Jack  in  that 
officer's  room.  The  Captain  was  walking 
strenuously  up  and  down  the  length  of  his 
room.  In  the  adjoining  room  the  Captain's 
lady  was  giggling  cheerfully  through  a  bunch 
cf  moist,  hysterical  tears.  Every  fourth  giggle 
was  punctuated  with  a  sob  three  sizes  too  large 
for  the  little  heart  from  which  it  came. 

Captain  Jack  turned  savagely  to  the  Wild 
cat.  "Where  the  hell  have  you  been?"  he  said. 

"Cap'n,  suh,"  the  Wildcat  said,  "mah  feet 
hurt.  Ah  went  out  to  git  me  some  shoes."  He 
reached  into  his  pocket.  "Ol'  Gin'ral  what  I 
cooked  dinner  fo'  on  de  train  gimme  dis  papeh. 
Said  to  give  it  to  you."  He  held  the  envelope 
which  the  heavy-set  general  had  given  him 
toward  Captain  Jack. 

[277] 


THE  WILDCAT 


Captain  Jack  glanced  at  the  enclosed  docu 
ments.  He  read  them  again.  His  hands  were 
trembling.  "Great  God!"  he  exclaimed.  He 
walked  rapidly  into  the  adjoining  room. 
"Honey,"  he  yelled,  "look  here!" 

Five  minutes  later  he  came  out  to  where  the 
Wildcat  stood  waiting.  "Son,  pack  this  stuff 
up.  We  start  for  Memphis  to-night." 

"Memphis!  Us  ain't  gwine  whah  dey  bury 
you?" 

"To  hell  with  Siberia!  One  of  those  papers 
you  brought  orders  me  to  Memphis  and  the 
other  is  an  order  for  my  discharge  from  the 
army." 

The  Wildcat  dived  downstairs  to  where  Lily 
was  tethered  in  the  baggage  room.  "Goat, 
doggone  you,  come  to  'tenshun!  Us  is  Mem 
phis  boun' !  Hot  dam !  I  knowed  if  we  kep' 
trav'lin'  we'd  ketch  Lady  Luck!" 

"Ah  done  ketched  ol'  Lady  Luck! 
Lady  Luck  ketched  me ! 

Me  an*  Cap'n's  Memphis  bound 

Memphis,  Ten-o-see." 

THE  END 

[278] 


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